Snakes Hate Chocolate
by Renaud Roddecker
Summary: Today, five lucky kids will have the chance to fulfill their wildest dreams and meet their worst nightmare. Now they have to find the way out or they might lose their sanity ! But with the Snake in the place, nothing is impossible... AU
1. Prologue: Afraid of Snakes

Okay, sothis story re-writes the movie on the basis "there's no five tickets, but six", but this one is slightly different from Mary Sue. The new character is a guy I created for an original fiction, and who's definitely not the "super-customized character", on the contrary, he has many horrible defaults. Well, you'll see that by yourselves, but I need to put a disclaimer: this story is a horror version of the movie, with some violence, cruelty, snakes,and a very, very evil Wonka, so if you don't like it, you might not want to read it. And, just a precision for plot purposes: in my version, parents won't accompany their children inside the Factory, and the Golden Tickets are put in the bars by a machine, and not by Wonka himself. Okay, let's get on !

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Prologue_

"I'm going to the park, Mom !" screamed five-years old Violet Beauregard while opening the front door.

"Be home at three," replied the mother's voice from another room, surely from the _Beauregard Hall of Fame_, where she was polishing Violet's Junior Pie-Eating Contest First Prize, the 125th trophy of the little girl's career. "Don't forget you've got to train for the arm-wrestling challenge !"

"Yeah, yeah," the girl mumbled as she left the house and made her way to the park, "the challenge, another challenge..."

Sometimes, she would get really pissed off by all this endless competition, but that wasn't easy to explain that to her mother...

She arrived in the park and looked for her friends. As she was always overstressed by competition, she passed her nerves bullying her classmates, and for so, she didn't have many friends. Very few, actually. But she had many, many enemies.

It was a hot summer day, and almost all the kids in the neighborhood were playing here. Among them, many were her usual victims. As she looked around, she noticed a small group of skinny four-eyed boys walking toward her. She smiled, sadistically. These guys were her favorite targets. She would have much fun taking them on...

"Hey, pinheads ! What are you doing here ? Aren't you home, with your eyes stuck into somewhat stupid book ?"

In response, they came closer and smiled. What did this smile mean ? Did they turn crazy ?

"My dear Violet," one of them said, "we're so glad to see you. We just had a request."

"A request ? What kind of request ?"

"We ask you to respect us and to ask for our forgiveness for all the beatings you've done to us."

The blond girl laughed her head off ! It was certainly the funniest thing she's ever heard !

"What did you just say ? You want another beating or what ?"

"I see... so you refuse ?"

"Not only do I refuse, but I'll give you a punch or two for lack of respect."

"I advise you not to do that."

She didn't reply. She didn't see the use. Bullies don't speak that much. So, she just clenched her fists and approached the guys to give them the beating of their life, when the front guy smiled wider and said:

"Too bad !"

The boy had one hand behind his back, and when he saw her approach, he threw her the thing he was holding. When she saw the object flying toward her, Violet first didn't understand what it was. It was long and green, like a field rope. She caught the thing in the air and realized it was hard and hot. Whatever it was, it wasn't happy to be held like this, and started struggling furiously to break free. The little brute came worried, until she heard a strong and angry whistling from the "green rope". There, she got really panicked: it was a snake ! It would bite her and she would die poisoned ! With a yell of sheer terror, she dropped the animal and ran away to home, letting a group of hilarious boys behind her: it was the first time in her life that she ever saw a snake in reality, and she couldn't know that the thing that was "threatening" her happened to be an inoffensive grass snake...

Miss Stella Beauregard was attentively cleaning her old cheerleader sticks, in her living room, when she heard the front door being slammed wide open, and a panicked high-pitched voice caught her ears:

"MOMMY !"

The blond woman raced to the entrance to see her daughter in tears in front of her. The little girl immediately jumped on her mother and hugged her tight. All of her muscles were trembling, her heart was beating like drums in a heavy metal concert.

_It's okay_, she thought. _Mommy will protect me from bad boys and ugly snakes. I'm safe, now._

"Violet", said Miss Beauregard to her terrified, sobbing daughter, "what's going on ?"

"He tried to kill me ! He wanted to bite me and kill me !"

"Who ?"

"The snake ! The snake, Mommy, he tried to kill me ! Mommy, I was so scared !"

"The snake ? You mean you were afraid of a snake ?"

The girl nodded. In response, her mother pushed her away and yelled:

"What's that scaredy-cat behavior ? Violet, you know what a snake is ? It's just a big worm ! You disappoint me, Violet."

"But Mommy..."

"There's no Mommy here ! I don't want you to become a pathetic timid creature. Fear is for losers and losers only. You don't have the right to be afraid. You'll do twenty more pushups for this."

The mother got back to the living room, letting a sad and disappointed little Violet here. Why was she grounded like this ? She did nothing wrong, she was just afraid of a snake ! Her teacher said that everyone was afraid of something, everyone ! But not her. Cause she was a winner. She couldn't allow herself to be afraid of something. Already, in her young brain, a promise wrote itself: she would fight fear. She'd never let fear invade her again. Never again.

_Five years later, in Atlanta, State of Georgia, one month before the Tour:_

Snow was falling hard outside, but she didn't care. Violet was standing, barefoot, dressed in a kimono, in the middle of the fighting area. Around her, five of the best karate masters of the city were laying down, unconscious. She had kicked them away in less than twenty seconds, and she wasn't even tired. She wasn't afraid when the fight began. She didn't feel the fear anymore. Five years after her promise, she had done it. She had managed to get rid of her fears. All of them. At least, that's what her mother thought. Because the little girl didn't want to hurt her mother's pride by telling her the truth. By telling her that there was only one, a basic and primal fear, that she had never managed to get rid of: her deathly phobia of snakes...


	2. An Arranged Visit for Aleksey

_Somewhere in the province of Petropavlovsk, Republic of Kazakhstan, five days before the Tour:_

if you thought that snow was falling hard in Atlanta, then you had no idea on how it was falling here, in Petropavlovsk. The fields and the road were completely white, coated with snow so thick that when you walked on it, your feet were buried to the ankles. The snowfalls were like a moving wall that you could barely pass through. The wind was strong enough to bend down the phone poles installed along the road (or what used to be a road). Anybody who would go out without a warm coat would be frozen in seconds. And to add to it all, it was night. A sweet winter night in Kazakhstan.

In the middle of a field, about one hundred meters away from the road, there was a farm, an old building which looked like it's been made three centuries ago and never restored since. But it was inhabited, because you could see light inside. And there was a very odd thing close to that farm, a thing that seemed completely out of context: a bright red Harley-Davidson motorcycle, with a can of Dr Peppers placed on the fuel tank. Kneeling down beside the bike, there was a young, thirteen-years old boy highly focused on repairing the rear brake. Kazakh roads were a nightmare, and trying to ride them on an American bike would eventually end up with something broken. The boy was lucky, it was only the rear brake. It could have been worse...

After ten minutes of fighting with a spanner and a bolt, he decided that it was repaired and got back inside the farm. The inside was like the outside, but at least, it was warm. In the living room, there was a middle-aged man watching TV and a six-years old girl struggling with the wrapping paper of a Wonka bar.

"Alina," the boy said in Kazakh, "still trying to find one of those golden ticket things ?"

"There's only one left !" She replied. "It could be anywhere in the world, and the Tour is in five days !"

Overexcited, she litteraly destroyed the paper and found... nothing. Just a plain chocolate bar.

"Oh, no..."

The boy stroked her hair and said:

"Nevermind. Still, you've got the chocolate."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right, Aleksey, but... hey, look at that !"

At the TV, the pictures of four children appeared. The four kids were smiling and holding a Golden Ticket. Then the reporter said:

_Only five days from the great Tour in the Wonka Factory, our four lucky winners are overexcited ! Let's see what they think, beginning by the first winner, Augustus Gloop, fifteen years old, from Germany:_

The boy who appeared was really disgusting, he seemed as gluton as a Kazakh camel, with red hair and the eyes of a dull cow. Aleksey's thought while watching him was: _My, there were already half-snakes, here's now a half-pig ! _

When he was asked what excited him the most about the Tour, Augustus replied:

_The lifetime supply. So that I'll be able to eat candy all day without caring about my pocket money !_

Aleksey lifted his eyebrows. _I thought so !_

The second child was a blond girl. Aleksey's eyes grew wider when he saw how beautiful she was. He thought: _Jessifer ! _He felt inside him that old feeling, the "butterflies", the feeling he thought he'd never feel again. But then, the reporter said:

_Our second winner, Violet Beauregard, ten years old, from the United States:_

Aleksey was confused and disappointed. She wasn't the girl he expected. But it was incredible, she could be her twin !

_To me, this whole thing is a competition, _declared Violet on TV_. And I do intend to win the mysterious first prize, at any cost !_

_Yuk ! _the boy thought_. What a jerk ! Definitely not my Jessy ! And what's that thing with the gum ? It's so gross !_

Still, he couldn't get rid of that odd feeling. This girl, despite of her jerky behavior, was fascinating him. He briefly took a look at the two other winners, quickly disgusted: Veruca Salt, fourteen-years old, was a rotten brat whose parents did everything she wanted. She was pretty, one must admin it, but she had the smile of the Jeepers Creepers. The other, Mike Teavee, twelve-years old, was exceptionally smart. Aleksey was himself extremely smart, but this one was a computer mastermind. Only he was also exceptionally arrogant.

"Turn off the TV," declared the old man, "I have enough of that freak show."

The all three laughed at his joke, and at that moment, the phone rang. The man took it, said a word or two, and gave it to the boy. Aleksey took it. The guy on the other side spoke in Russian:

"Good evening, Alex. How are you ?"

"Fine. I finished the job, here, and I was taking a day or two to repair my bike."

"I see... tell me, Alex, would you like to visit a certain chocolate factory ?"

"Excuse me ?"

"You know that there are five tickets, and only four have been found ? I can get you the last one."

"Why would it interest me ? You know I'm not a big fan of candy. You should give it to Alina."

"You don't understand: someone _else_ would be very pleased to have you in that factory."

That was the magic sentence. Aleksey was now very interested:

"Details ?"

"The factory is located in a small town in England, roughly two hundred miles away from London. There's a small hotel in that town, only one, you can't miss it. Your contact there is Henry Salt."

"Salt ? Like..."

"Precisely. Be there the day before the Tour."

"No problem."

The teenager hanged up the phone and looked at the old man who asked:

"You're leaving ?"

"Yeah. In England. So I thank you for your hospitality and... sorry about the troubles."

"Nevermind. I didn't like those guys anyway. And that was impressive. You can come back anytime. Just... where are you going, exactly ?"

"To the Factory."

Alina shouted:

"To the Wonka Factory ? Oh, no, that's so unfair ! You don't even like chocolate !"

"I'm sorry to be unable to bring you with me. I know how you were craving for that Tour, but... you won't regret it. I have a feeling that you won't regret not coming. There's something wrong with that Factory. I can smell it from here."


	3. Meeting the Guy

_The Factory Village, the day before the Tour:_

The arcade hall was not as small as Mike Teavee thought. When Mike first arrived in this village, he thought he could only find brainless peasants. It was a nice surprise for him to find a large arcade hall in the hotel. The problem was that no-one in this hall was strong enough to give the great Mike Teavee a good challenge: he beat Augustus Gloop at _Point Blank _in thirty seconds and litterally smacked down Violet Beauregard at _Street Fighter_. But that blond retard then expressed the strong desire to have another round _in reality_, and Mike had to hide in a soda machine until she got bored and gave it up. Too bad she was so violent, they could've become friends. Well, maybe he shouldn't have been so arrogant. After all, this girl was... rather... pretty. Not that he was... no, not him. Only retards would lose their time for girlfriends. He was too intelligent for that. But... well, he wouldn't be bothered to have her as a videogame character, you see. But all hopes weren't lost, because she will be in the Tour, it'll give him an occasion to try to get closer. It would be at least one interesting thing to do in that stupid factory.

Now he was still in the arcade hall, and he was slightly bored. The other kids in the room were only small children that would be way too easy to beat. The fourth winner hadn't arrived yet, but he already knew it was a girl, and worse, a Daddy's-Little-Girl. That is to say, she represented no interest whatsoever. And who the Hell was the fifth winner ?

Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him. Heavy footsteps, with a metallic clinking. He turned round and saw a girl who just entered the room, and who was looking at the arcade machines with interest. She was around Mike's age, she was tall, slim, with a pale complexion, blue eyes, semi-long dark hair, and dressed in black jeans, black shirt, and black snake skin made cow-boy boots, with big spurs that created this particular clinking. Veruca Salt ? Mike thought not: they may have a few facial similarities, but Veruca as he saw her on TV didn't have the same haircut, and she was shorter than that. And she didn't look like she would wear jeans and cow-boy boots. But, after all, who knows where a rich girl's fantaisies can lead ? Maybe she wanted to change her look. He decided to verify by himself. He approached her and asked:

"Veruca Salt ?"

The girl looked at him and replied:

"Excuse me ?"

That voice ! It was surprising. It was not a voice. A quarter of her words was spoken with real voice, the other three quarters were whispers. Like an old person with a throat disease trying to speak. Plus, this "whispering voice" had a deep tone, like a male voice, with a very thin whistling. And Mike also noticed that this girl had a strange musculature. Seen from far, she looked like a girl, but now that Mike was closer, she still had the face of a girl but her body looked more like a...

"Are you a boy ?"

"Just like you," he replied with a smile. "Don't worry, you're not the first one to tell me I look like a girl. My name's Aleksey Stoyanovitch."

"Mike Teavee. You're Russian ?"

"Kazakh. You're a Ticket winner, right ?"

"Yeah. And you ?"

"I'm the fifth one. I found the Ticket four days ago."

"Really ? I didn't hear anything about you..."

"I come from a country where we receive fresh news three weeks later, you know. I've heard that you found your one using computer hacking and mathematic logic ? That was brilliant."

"Thanks."

Mike decided that this Russian (sorry: Kazakh) boy was a good fellow: friendlier than Violet and smarter than Augustus. It was just too bad he wasn't a girl. If only Violet could be a bit more like him ! Mike asked:

"Tell me: are you good at video games ?"

"It depends: which one ?"

"How about a _Street Fighter _?"

"Boy, you're gonna cry..."

"Okay, I'm up to the challenge. Come on !"

They both went to the machine and started a game. Mike picked up Guile.

"Good choice," commented Aleksey.

"He's the best striker of the game ! With me, he's undefeatable !"

Aleksey picked up Vega and the fight began. It began very bad for the poor Mike, because his opponent was as experimented as he was arrogant: whatever Guile tried, Vega dodged every punch with grace and replied with high-flying kicks and devastating claw strikes. The young genius was sweating heavily and his fingertips were getting painful, while the Asian boy seemed to be just warming up. Finally, after a whole minute, Vega slashed Guile away and finished with a Perfect. Aleksey smiled at his opponent and said:

"Congratulations, you're the first one to last more than thirty seconds against me."

"I admin it, you're tough. But it's not over yet ! Let's..."

"Sorry, we'll do that later. I have something to do first. See ya'round."

On these words, Aleksey moved to the room entrance, where a young maid was standing, holding a backpack in one hand. The boy and the maid started murmuring. Mike sneaked close to them to listen. He didn't like mysteries, and beside, he suspected his Asian friend to flirt with the young woman. Aleksey said to the maid:

"Are they arriving ?"

"They are. I guess you'll recognize them."

Then, she handed him the bag and said:

"I've got what you wanted. Be careful, some of them are dangerous bastards."

Aleksey took the bag and replied:

"I know how to handle them. I've got a feeling that tomorrow will be a very long day..."

"You don't trust Wonka ?"

"Should I ? I've briefed myself about him, and I can tell there's no reason to trust him."

Then, they both walked away, letting a thoughtful Mike alone in the room. This Aleksey was strange. It looked like he was expecting someone. And what was so dangerous in that bag ? He wasn't just a lucky boy, Mike was sure of it. Suddenly, the young computer geek felt like in an espionage movie. There was a mystery in the plot, and he was to find the truth. Just like in those detective games he would play sometimes. But now, it wasn't a game, it was reality. How exciting...

A few minutes later, in the main entrance, two exhausted grooms entered, carrying an impressive luggage. They were followed by an elegant middle-aged man and a noisy girl.

"Daddy, I said I wanted a suite with a Jacuzzi ! And I don't want to have dinner in the hotel restaurant, with the others. They're too shabby, Daddy, there's no way I talk to them !"

"Veruca-darling, I am really sorry but I did my best. This hotel is the only one close enough to the Factory, so we'll have to deal with it. I'm terribly sorry, sweetheart."

Veruca Salt said nothing, she was just extremely disappointed and irritated. Just like always. She kept walking, heading to the stairway, and passed close to a boy of her age dressed like those cow-boys in Texan fictions, on TV. With semi-long hair. Yuk ! Long hair were not suitable for a boy. The young cow-boy talked to her, he dared to talk to her !

"Miss Veruca Salt, I presume ? Nice to meet you, I'm..."

"Back off, you punk !"

The boy didn't insist. But what Veruca couldn't see was that just after, her father glanced at the boy, and the boy nodded slowly. Mr Salt nodded in return. He knew. This young boy with the boots of an American gangster and the head of a girl was the boy he wanted to find.


	4. Cold Logic

An hour later. Time for dinner. Violet was in the hotel restaurant with her mother, eating her omelette while observing the surroundings. The restaurant had a wooden furniture, small trees and dim lights, that gave it a warm atmosphere. There was a bar at a corner, equiped with a TV large enough to be watched from everywhere in the room. The TV was on a news channel, but it was very discreet. And somewhere, a jukebox was playing a song of Mark Knopfler. It was nice. In front of Violet, two tables away, there was this horrible snobby girl, Veruca Salt, with her father. She was speaking, and judging by the tone of her voice, she was complaining. A little on the back, Augustus Gloop was beginning his twenty-third hamburger. Behind the Salt, this boy who beat her at _Street Fighter_, Mike Teavee. He wasn't eating. He seemed to be discreetly observing a boy sitting nearby, alone, a boy dressed like a cow-boy who was smoking with the feet on the table. Who was this guy ? Violet didn't know, but she didn't want to. Her mother always told her not to talk to boys who had cigarettes. Only louts would smoke.

After a few minutes, Veruca got up and approached Violet. What did that b'tch want ?

"Daddy said I should try to befriend with you, because we're the only two girls of the tour."

She gave her hand: "I'm Veruca Salt."

Violet looked at her and said: "Then what ?"

She immediately felt her mother's elbow on her ribs. Okay, Mom, whatever...

"I'm Violet Beauregard."

"You know, you should spit out that chewing gum when talking to someone. It's very gross."

This made Violet explode. She was already not eager to befriend with this rotten brat, but THIS, was too much. She yelled:

"How the f'ck dare you, you little b'tch !"

Mike, who was being hypnotised by the slow movements of Aleksey's cigarette, had a start when he heard a high-pitched yell. He searched for it and saw that the two girls were having a catfight. Okay, everything was normal, then. A movement ! Aleksey was moving ! Mike looked back at him, still with much discretion. He promised himself to spy this Kazakh guy to know what was wrong. Because something wasn't clear.

Aleksey got up, spit out his cigarette, crushed it on the floor, and went to sit on Veruca's chair after making sure that no-one was watching. He didn't see Mike, you listened to his conversation with Mr Salt very attentively:

"Your daughter is terrible."

"I know, young man, I know. So, it's you the..."

"No name, Mr Salt. No name."

"I understand. Let's be straight."

The old man searched his pocket and gave a Golden Ticket to Aleksey. Mike didn't understand. What was that all about ? Mr Salt then said:

"This Ticket is the exact reproduction of my daughter's one. It is perfectly identical in shape, material and ink. A masterpiece, far from that pathetic Russian imitation."

"I can see that. How about the money ?"

"Ten percent at the beginning of the Tour. You'll touch the rest at the end."

"Sounds like a fair trade."

Mike stopped breathing. A fake ticket ! Aleksey didn't have any ticket at all ! Why would this snobbish gentleman make a fake just for him ? And what was this "money" ? Dozens of crazy scenarios immediately rushed in the head of the little detective. At this moment, the bartender called everybody and turned on the sound of the TV. There was the picture of a little boy, and the reporter said:

_Eleven years old Charlie Bucket just found the fifth and last Golden Ticket today. He is the last lucky kid to attend the great Factory Tour tomorrow morning !_

Somewhere in the room, some people applauded. But not Aleksey, neither Mr Salt. They had a big problem now...

"It won't work anymore !" said the old man.

The Kazakh boy remained thoughtful for a few seconds, while Violet and Veruca were beginning the second round. Finally, he said:

"I have an idea ! Have you got a knife ?"

Henry Salt gave him his silvery penknife. The boy took it and used the blade to scratch the front of his fake ticket.

"What are you doing ?"

"Don't worry."

He kept scratching, then took his cigarette lighter, burned the scratched area, and scratched again. The front of his ticket was now completely worn out.

"Give me your daughter's ticket."

"But what are you..."

"Hurry !"

Mr Salt gave Veruca's ticket to the boy. He did to the back of Veruca's ticket what he did to the front of his own. Then he said:

"It's okay. No problem now."

"Just... what have you done ?"

"I gave those tickets a hot-off-the-press aspect."

"I don't understand..."

"Those tickets are made of thin pieces of gold. So, to make them, Wonka had to melt some gold down to a liquid status and then put the liquid in a press to make the tickets that are then printed. You follow me ?"

"Yes."

"Now, imagine that the computer-controlled press makes an error and creates six tickets instead of five. It could happen. The press is programmed to select the gold quantity necessary to create the tickets. It selects some gold for six tickets, makes a first pressure to have a roughly correct shape, then puts the six tickets-in-making in five moulds for the final pressure that will give them their definitive aspect. What will happen ?"

"Two of the tickets are in the same mould and get stuck together."

"Exactly. They are then printed and automatically distributed in the chocolate bars. As the two tickets were printed together, the print is incorrect in the face that was stuck to the other. At the time of the distribution, the two tickets unstick and are normally distributed in the candy bars. That's how a sixth ticket appeared in Kazakhstan, and that's why I'm here today."

"This is impressive. You deserve your reputation, young man. But how do you know all that ?"

"I worked a month in a steel factory in Novgorod. We had those kinds of problems almost once a week. Okay, I should get some sleep now. I'll see you tomorrow."

Henry Salt watched the boy leaving the restaurant and added to himself: "I just hope you'll prove yourself worthy, if you have to."


	5. Ophidiophobia

DISCLAIMER: People suffering Ophidiophobia (phobia of snakes) may hate this chapter. What am I saying ? People who are afraid of snakes _will_ hate the _whole_ story ! Except if they want to try... after all, this is a horror story, so let's get afraid !

Note: if you may think that I made Violet too weak, I'm sorry. It's not my intention to make her "Mommy's little frightened girl". I tried to make her as tough as in the film, I just added this particular violent phobia that drains all her courage away. After all, we all have a weakness...

I'd like some reviews, please ! Even if you don't like, it'll be very helpful to know why !

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_Later, this night..._

The sky was dark and cloudy. All around, everything seemed quiet, too quiet... Dressed in her blue pajamas, Violet was running. She didn't know where she was, nor why she was running, but she was running through a dark forest of black, leafless trees. It was cold. She kept running. She had the impression that something would happen, and she'd better be very far when it comes. The ground was cold and hard under her bare feet, but she didn't notice. Her mind was focused on running. Just running.

A voice came out of nowhere and pierced through the silence with its unbearable whistling:

"Where are tthhhhhhou running like tthhhat, little girl ? Trying to esssssssscape ? But tthhhhou won't. I am your nightmare, tthhhhhhhou can't run away from me !"

And suddenly, as if these words had triggered some mysterious mechanism, Violet felt the ground changing under her feet. It was still cold and hard, but no more firm, no more flat. Running was harder and harder. The little girl had the impression to run on ropes, or metallic wires. It was not that at all...

She bent her head down to look at the floor, and what she saw terrorized her, it triggered an old, primal fear, the only fear she hadn't ever managed to get rid of: on the floor there were hundreds, if not thousands of snakes, crawling, whistling, sticking out their horrible tongues and winding around her bare ankles. She felt her heart stopping. Her mouth came dry, and her voice had just ceased to function. Without a scream, she tripped and fell on the floor. She didn't even try to get up: paralyzed by fear, she was watching, powerless, as the creatures of her most horrible nightmares were crawling all over her body, gripping her arms and legs, slipping slowly beneath her shirt and into her pants. She was buried under snakes. She felt their cold bodies creeping on her skin, and every inch of her little body trembled and stiffened in disgust. She wanted to run away, but she couldn't. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't. She wanted to die, but she couldn't.

Then, the snakes on her face crawled away, to let her see what was happening: someone was approaching, walking on the snakes like Jesus walking on water. A dark figure, with a humanoid shape. She couldn't see anything else, because his whole body was, like hers, covered with snakes. But he seemed to like it. After all, she knew who he was. He was the Bogeyman. The monster who tortured children in their sleep. Several times, her mother had told her that it was all bullshit, but she believed in him. He was the one who haunted her dreams. He was the one who made those snakes appear. Because it was not the first time she lived this scene. It did happen quite often, actually, and that's what made it so horrible. He approached her, and looked at her with his yellow eyes. He looked at her, and laughed at her torment. She opened her mouth wide, vainly trying to scream, to ease the extreme terror that grabbed her heart and paralyzed her body and mind, but when the mouth was open, a snake crawled inside, down her throat, into her stomach...

And suddenly, she rose up and opened her wet, teary eyes. Her breath was strong and irregular, due to the violent spasmodical moves of the chest, her heartbeats were painful, and most of all, her body was trembling intensely. She took a look around: it was too dark for her to see a single thing. Then, suddenly remembering where she was seconds ago, she started to struggle and slap her chest, arms and legs, to kick all the snakes away. But there were no snakes. Because in reality, she was in a comfortable hotel room, under warm blankets, totally safe from any danger. She passed a hand on her face and in her hair, to realize that her skin was all covered with a thin layer of sweat, and her hair were all stuck and messy. She buried her face in her trembling hands and let herself sob silently. She needed to evacuate the tension. At this moment, she really craved for warm, comforting arms that would hug her tight, and rock her gently, while a chanting voice would tell her that it was okay, that it was only a silly nightmare and that she was safe now. But it wouldn't come. In the bed beside hers, Stella Beauregard was still sleeping peacefully. Anyway, her mother would only tell her to stop worrying about "childish things" and to behave like a "strong woman". A strong woman of only ten years old ? It seemed so ludicrous...

With many efforts, the young girl managed to stop crying and to find the strength to get out of the bed. She was still in shock. She knew she couldn't sleep anymore. In this case, she'd better go out and get some fresh air. She almost fell down when she tried to stand on her feet. Her trembling legs felt so weak ! She eventually found her slippers, put them on her feet, and walked to the bathroom. She turned on the light and put some fresh water on her face. It felt a little better. She looked at her face in the mirror. Oh, God... red eyes, pale and wet face... she looked like a zombie. After this nightmare, she always felt greatly weakened, as if it had pumped out all her energy. Except that this time, she also felt an unease, like a stone or something like that, between her stomach and her throat. It was the first time that she had dreamed the horrible scene of the snake crawling inside her mouth... suddenly, at this memory, the "stone" in her stomach raced up her throat, and she just had the time to bend down in front of the toilet before her dinner got evacuated and landed in the bowl. She got up, flushed the toilet, and brushed her teeth. She now felt way much better. She was still trembling, but she felt liberated from a great weight. Her morale was slowly coming back. She took her chewing gum from behind her hear, put it in her mouth, arranged her hair, and left the room for her little night walk.

It didn't take her long to meet someone. At the end of the corridor, there was a soda machine, where Augustus was making supplies. When she arrived by his side, he looked at her wierdly and said:

"Are you alright, little girl ?"

"I'm NOT a little girl."

"You're five years younger than me. You ARE a little girl. Anyway, I was asking if you were alright."

"Why, don't I look alright ?"

"Well, you're all wet, and your legs are trembling, so..."

"Leave me alone."

"Hey, don't get mad at me. I was just trying to help."

Violet gave him a dark glance. If looks could kill, he'd be already dead. Maybe he was sincerely trying to help, but his simple presence greatly annoyed her. She needed to pass her nerves on something, and his fat ass looked so good to kick...

Augustus didn't understand what was happening when the blond girl's foot hit his stomach and threw him against the soda machine. She had just kicked him ! He remembered that she was a karate champion, it meant that he stood no chance against her. What was happening to her ?

"Hey," he screamed, "are you nuts ?"

She was no more trembling. She looked extremely angry, for no reason. She looked like a beast. Although he was much older and bigger than her, the boy was terrified.

"If you want to help me," she said, "just let me kick your lardass."

And as she was about to hit him again, all the lights of the corridor suddenly turned out, one by one. In a few seconds, the two teenagers were in pitch darkness.

"What the Hell is..."

A whistling ! Violet heard a strong whistling, like... oh, no, not that damn dream again ! It was not enough to have nightmares about snakes, now she had hallucinations ! Although she was almost sure that this snake-like whistling was coming from her overdriven imagination, she couldn't help but freeze. She noticed that Augustus had frozen too. Wait... did he heard it, too ? So it meant it was...

She distinguished two yellow glims in the darkness in front of her. Her eyes grew wider, and her lips moved in a silent prayer. She couldn't see any shape, any figure. Just the yellow lights. But she knew what they were: eyes. The eyes of the Bogeyman.

_Can't be... he's just a nightmare. A plain, stupid nightmare. He cannot be real. This is just my imagination..._

Augustus ran away, scared. He had seen it too. It was real. The Bogeyman was real, and he was standing before her, ready to bring her to his realm, where she would be eaten alive by the snakes, so many snakes. The eyes grew closer, rythmed by heavy metallic footsteps. He was closing in. Then, that voice, the same as in her nightmare:

"Isssssss tthhhhere any problem, young lady ?"

She didn't have the courage to face it one more time. Especially because this time, it was real. She just did the most intelligent thing she could: she fainted.


	6. The D Day

Okay, this is the last chapter before the Tour begins. I had much fun writing it, especially with Mike (you'll see). I remind (for the sake of understanding) that in my version, parents won't accompany their kids inside.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike Teavee opened his eyes and looked at his watch. Seven o'clock. There was not a noise from the bed beside him. His father was still sleeping. Okay, three hours left before the Tour. Mike was very impatient. Not to see Wonka and his stupid factory, this didn't interest him the least. He was impatient because he felt that he was close to something, something big, about Aleksey's mysterious behavior, and he felt that the answer was in that factory. He would investigate, and find the truth. He closed his eyes. Already in his head, a twisted scenario was taking shape: Aleksey was a hired killer, sent to the factory by Mr Salt to make sure that this horrible Veruca would win the special prize. Yes, that was it... his plan wouldn't work as he thought. He would try to escape by taking a hostage. He would take Violet. Mike could almost see the mad killer, with bloody eyes, holding Violet in front of her, threatening her with a long knife. And the poor girl was helpless and vulnerable. She was crying and calling for her mommy (Mike already forgot that she was in reality way stronger than that, but such considerations don't count in fantaisies). The situation was desperate. Only Mike could save the day... with a lightning speed, Mike jumped in the air like the _Shinobi_, and kicked the Kazakh guy away. Then he finished him with some high-flying _Street Fighter _like moves. There was no doubt he could make it. After all, he was the great Mike T., the strongest and smartest boy of the world. It was over. Aleksey was knocked out, Veruca was ashamed, the factory was safe and Violet wasn't harmed. Wonka gave him the special prize to thank him for his heroic behavior. And Violet... he took the poor frightened girl in his strong arms and comforted her. Then she looked at him, and her teary eyes were full of admiration. She smiled shyly and whispered: _My hero_... and finally, she kissed him passionately, before slapping him violently in the face.

What ?

He suddenly opened his eyes: she was really here ! His father had disappeared during the night, and the two bed were stuck together to make one king size bed. And Violet was in this bed, and Mike had been kissing her until she slapped him. How could it be ? The girl was now spitting and rubbing her lips on her hand, as if she had just drunk something disgusting. Mike's face was turning bright red. Shit, he was completely unprepared for this ! But, by the way... where was his father ?

At the same moments, in the Beauregard's room, Stella was still asleep, having a pleasant dream. She was moving in her bed and moaning: _Hmmm, Tom_... in her dream, Tom Cruise was holding her in his arms, and their lips came closer and closer... but something was wrong. She felt she was kissing something _in reality_... she suddenly awoke, and the person she saw in her bed was not Tom Cruise: it was a middle-aged man, wrinkled and half-bald, who was looking at her in shock. Then, they both screamed.

"What do you think you're doing ?" yelled Violet at the young boy. "And why are you in my room ?"

"Excuse me," replied Mike, "but I think YOU are in MY room !"

"What ?" she took a look around and whispered, "What the Hell happened ?"

Mike hesitated. It was maybe his chance... just... give it a try.

"You know," he said after clearing his voice, "you're not bothering me."

"What ?"

"I mean... maybe you could feel, eh, quite... embarrassed by this unusual situation, so I... wish to let you know that... your presence doesn't bother me. You could even stay here if you want to..."

In response, she slapped him hard. On the other cheek.

"Aouch ! Why do you keep slapping me like that ?"

"Because you're a pervert ! I'm a blond, but I'm not dumb, I know what you mean by _I'm not bothering you_. You like to eye me..."

Suddenly, she stopped as a flash of understanding passed across her mind. Mike backed up when he saw the flame of anger in her eyes, but he was already against a wall and couldn't escape.

"NOW I understand !" she screamed. "YOU are the one who scared me last night ! You set up this plan in hope that I would jump in your arms !"

Mike didn't understand anything. He had slept the whole night !

"I... what do you mean ?"

The blond girl answered by jumping on him and clenching her hands around his throat, and shaking him like a McDonald's salad.

"You freak I'm gonna make you suffer !"

Mike couldn't find any way out, except the natural way of survival, the one he hoped he'd never have to use: he yelled like a sissy.

"Help ! Daddy ! Help me ! That girl's crazy ! Help ! Help !"

Fortunately for the poor TV-boy, the two children's embarrassed parents chose this moment to open the door and rush in the room, bringing the fight to an end.

Later on, all the winners were in the restaurant for a tiny breakfast (they all knew they were going to eat candy all day, so they took their precautions, even Augustus... yes, he really did !) and as the Beauregard were sitting at their table, a waiter approached them with a tray and began to serve the tea.

"Boy," said Mrs Beauregard, "I'm sorry but we didn't ask for tea."

"I know, Madam. Someone offered it to you."

"And could we know who, please ?"

"I'm sorry, Madam, but I don't know."

At this moment, Violet realized that the tea was accompanied with a small card. She took it. There was something drawn on, some kind of logo, representing a red triangle into a circle of the same color. And in the middle of that triangle, there was a black silhouette representing a... a snake ? Curious, she unfolded it and saw a message:

_Hope you girls appreciated the night. From a devoted friend..._

Violet stopped breathing. These words stinked sarcasm. Now she was almost sure it was not Mike who scared her last night. He seemed too innocent this morning. There was somebody else who was playing with them. But why ? Then it came: she had brutalized the fat boy. And that guy, whoever he was, felt the need to teach her a lesson. So he scared her to death, and then, he humiliated her by putting her in bed with that computer geek. It had to be somebody who knew them, even a few. She took a look around. She didn't see any of the ticket winners who could be so vicious. Her mind came almost immediately to that freaky guy who seemed to follow them. That long-haired girl-like cow-boy. He was in the restaurant the day before, and he was still here this morning. Why was he after them ? Anyway, she couldn't go teaching him a lesson. Not without a solid proof. She didn't want to waste the day by making a scene. In rage, she ripped off the card and stood up.

"Violet ?" asked her mother. "What's going on ?"

"Nothing, Mom. I'm not hungry. I've got to prepare for the Tour."

On these words, she ran straight to her room. She was more excited about this visit than she wanted to show: in reality, she didn't care much for the special prize. She just wanted to meet the world famous chocolatier, and to eat candy until her stomach explodes. While preparing, she was chewing her gum furiously, as to control her emotions. She was a little scared, though. Not afraid, but a bit uneasy about this Tour. She remembered what her mother had told her the day before:

_"Violet, you remember that, according to the rules of the contest, I won't be able to accompany you inside."_

_"I know, Mom: Wonka wants to test us alone, without parental influence, to decide who deserves the special prize."_

_"That's it. You must think about the prize. This Tour is nothing more than a silly contest, that you can win without efforts. However... the problem is that you will be alone. You will be five children alone with a stranger."_

_"Then what ?"_

_"Well, you need to realize that there are strangers who... who lure kids with candies... who capture them, and... and once they have... they will... well, you watch the news, sometimes, so I think you know what I mean."_

_"What, you think that ? You think Wonka is ?" she laughed out loud. "Mom, it's ridiculous !"_

_"Maybe, but still, I'm not secure about it. I can't prevent you from going, because I know how you were waiting for this event. And maybe I'm just paranoid. But I need you to make me a promise."_

_"Okay."_

_"I want you to be sure that you're always safe. If he asks you to do something... unusual, in order to get the prize, or if for any reasons you feel that something is going wrong, I want you to run away. Don't ask yourself questions, just run out of that factory. And if Wonka tries to interfere... kick him in the balls. Okay ?"_

_"Okay."_

_"But if everything is going alright, I count on you to get the prize !"_

_"Okay !"_

What had worried Violet the most is that she'd never seen her mother in such a state of mind. Maybe she was right... no. There was no reason for this Tour to turn wrong. And if it ever did... well, she was a champion at running and karate. If she was smart enough to detect the tricks, she would survive. The powerful Violet Beauregard wouldn't get caught like that.

9:55 am. Five minutes before the Tour. Charlie thought this moment would never come. And finally, here he was, about to meet his personal hero, Willy Wonka, in person. But in the same time, he felt a little insecure. He put his hand in the pocket of his worn-out black jeans, and his fingers met the wooden handle of his father's old-fashioned razorblade. The night before, Mr Bucket had done to his son the same kind of lecture as Mrs Beauregard had done to her daughter: basically, five children alone with a stranger who would give them candy was a potentially dangerous situation. That's why he gave him the razorblade: just a precaution. The young boy squeezed his grandfather's hand, wishing that he could accompany him inside. But he couldn't. The rule was strict: no parental influence of any type. The issue of the contest must be decided only between the chocolatier and the five winners. Okay, Charlie thought there was no big danger anyway. It would be cool. A good day. The best of his life. To change his mind, he took a look at his companions, who were also waiting in front of the iron gates: there was this horrible gum-chewing brat, Violet Beauregard, in her blue tracksuit. Augustus Gloop, the biggest and dirtiest boy Charlie had ever seen. Mike Teavee, who was throwing arrogant glances around. And... and Veruca Salt. Charlie felt all dizzy inside when he looked at her. He knew he was blushing, but he didn't care. She was absolutely gorgeous with her curly brown hair, her pink dress, her wide eyes... he wished he could have a chat with her. Normally, it would be impossible, because she was older and way richier than he was. But, maybe, in this wide factory, he would have a chance... he didn't care much about the mysterious prize: having a chance to talk to her, to be her friend, or... or more... that would be his special prize. Suddenly, she looked at him. Embarrassed, the shy boy forced himself to look elsewhere, and his gaze arrived at... who was this guy ?

In fact, everyone was wondering what this boy was doing here. Everyone except Mike, who knew about the trick and was craving to know what was behind this conspiracy. Aleksey Stoyanovitch was standing beside Mr Salt, his blue eyes staring intensely at the iron gates. He had completely changed his look for the event: he wore his usual black spur boots, but with pants, a tight top, a large belt with a metallic buckle, thin gloves, and a narrow riding coat that went down to his calves. Apart from the metallic items, the spurs and the buckle, his whole suit was jet black, and made of a strange material. It looked like leather, but it was granular, like skaï. But it was too shiny to be skaï. Violet, though, almost immediately identified the material: the shiver she had when watching the coat couldn't fool her: it was snake skin. This Kazakh guy was all dressed in snake skin, and his hair were flatten back with tons of gomina. Violet thought he looked too much like the monster of her dreams. She hated him already. Mike thought he had the look of some mafious' gunman. He was jealous. He wanted to look like a real deviant with his skull shirt, but this guy was stealing the show.

Veruca was also very interested by that boy. She realized he was a little younger than her, maybe one year younger, although he was a few inches taller. She also noticed, not without blushing a little (like any young girl when they caught themselves looking at boys, but she didn't feel anything more for this guy. With his cow-boy attitude and his clothes that made him look like a caricature of a gangster movie, he had nothing that could attract her), that his tight clothes could let guess a muscular body. This guy was surely a sportsboy. But what intrigued her the most is that he seemed to stand beside them _on purpose_. Or maybe it was just an impression, but it was still tickling her. She decided to ask, rudely:

"Hey, you !"

The boy looked at her, offered his hand and said, with his strange old man's voice:

"Hello. I'm Alex."

She looked at the gloved hand, not wanting to show any sympathy for that tramp. But she felt her father squeezing her hand. She knew what it meant. Okay, Daddy...

She took the hand and said, without enthusiasm: "Veruca..."

"Nice to meet you."

"I wanted to know what you were doing here. You're not one of the winners, after all."

In response, the boy took his Golden Ticket from his pocket.

"And what about this ?"

"This is impossible ! There are only five tickets, not six ! Beside, your one is scorched. It's a fake."

"I don't know why it's scorched like that, but I know it's made of real gold, I found it loyally, in a Wonka bar I bought in a shop, and for so, I have the right to visit this factory like you."

"No, you don't."

"I do."

"You don't !"

"Well, we'll see what Wonka thinks about all this."

This put an end to the conversation. Veruca decided to cold-shoulder that rude guy and turned her eyes to the iron gates. Too bad for her. She didn't see it. The move. The boy and her father had looked at each other, and nodded discreetly, like the day before. As to exchange some silent message. But a few seconds after, she heard her father saying: _No, thanks_. She turned back to him to see that the boy had try to offer him a cigarillo, which he had politely refused. The boy then put the cigarillo in his own mouth and lighted it. Veruca whispered:

"Smoking so young... you should be ashamed."

"Thanks for the advice, Mère Theresa, I'll think about it."

It was cynical, of course. Veruca ignored him, it was the best she could do. She opened her purse and looked at her pocket watch. One minute left. She was nervous. She took a look around, and saw that the other were as nervous as her. There were signs: the hands trembling slowly, the legs moving as to avoid cramps, the arm clenched tightly around the chest... they all had some unvolunteer moves that revealed their nervousness. All but this "Alex", who was as calm as water. She was a little bit scared, though: she remembered, when her father had read the rule so that no adults had the right to accompany the children, he said it was too dangerous. She had thrown a tantrum, saying it was ridiculous that parents always thought the worse when children were invited at an adult's. Her father had thought about it for five minutes, and said okay. It had been so easy... it had given her the impression that her father didn't care much about her. Just an impression. Maybe it was only because she was right. But now, in front of this massive building, she felt an irrational fear coming. What if she was wrong ? Would she really be safe inside ? She wished she could think about it longer, but it was too late. And what would her father think of her if she hesitated now ? No, she had to go and see. There was no reason for this day to turn back. They would visit a wonderful factory, eat candy all day, and go home happy and sated. And no matter how much she wanted the special prize, she wouldn't do something dangerous to get it. Certainly not. And another thing was bugging her. A few minutes after she had convinced her father, the day she received the Ticket, she had sneaked in his room when he was giving a phone call. Nothing strange, because he usually spent half of his time on the phone, but there, he seemed to be speaking in _Russian_. Who the Hell was he calling in Russia ?

No time for questions. The bell of the church was chiming ten o'clock. It was time. The Tour was beginning. In front of the impatient kids, the heavy gates opened slowly...


	7. I'm Pessimistic

I told you already, and I say it again: thanks for the review, Terra, it really helps me a lot ! So, this chapter tells the beginning of the Tour. Again, if you're easily disturbed by gruesome themes such as cruelty,madness or death,ophidiophobic, or simply can't stand the idea of Willy Wonka being a monster, you may hate the story. That's the last time I say it. You'll be warned !

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_Please move in._

The voice came from a loudspeaker, somewhere in the field between the gates and the front door of the building. Although they were all impatient, they walked slowly, respectfully. They were intrigued by so much mystery, and intimidated by the building's size. All the kids were remembering their parents' advices as the group headed to the huge door. Aleksey was different. He didn't have the same feelings. His feelings were way more scary. He wasn't afraid, neither nervous. Or at least, he didn't have the physiological signs of such feelings. His body was always cold and slow, and that helped to keep his mind in a state of supernatural calm. But now, his body was as cool as it used to be, and his mind was on full alertness. Danger detected. He had a sixth sense, and he trusted it. The ability to feel danger. To _smell_ it. And what he smelled now, coming from that factory, was a phantom exhalation of darkness. It was weird. It was not a smell properly speaking, it was something else. It was as if the whole factory emitted an invisible, untouchable dark energy. He looked at the others, the children and their parents, who were admiring the architecture without feeling uneasy. Nervous, but not uneasy. They had not felt it. He was the only one with this impression. And so far, his impressions had never fooled him. Now he understood why he was here today.

They stopped before a stone-made set of stairs, ten meters away from the door. Alex discreetly put his hand in his coat, behind his back, and squeezed a long leather handle. Ten meters. If anything bad appeared at the door, he would have to shorten the distance to three meters before attempting something. Very risky. But another factor came in his mind: the people. All the village was watching the scene, behind them. Too many eyewitnesses. If something had to happen, it would happen onlyinside. The Kazakh judged the situation and decided it was safe. For now. He released the handle and put his hand out of the coat. He just had to wait and see. Like the others. The loudspeaker, again:

_Greetings ! I welcome you to my factory ! And who am I ?_

The giant door opened at this very moment on a... puppet show ? There were many dolls dancing while an automatic voice was singing a rather irritating song. The children looked at their parents, and at each others, grimacing: they all found the show quite distasteful. Then, an empty throne appeared, and some pyrotechnics exploded, setting the puppets on fire. It had to be a setting mistake, but Alex wondered if he didn't have to see some kind of warning in this incident... after all, puppets were small persons, like children... children, fire... fire, children... or maybe was he just worrying too much.

A noise interrupted his thoughts. A man was applauding and giggling like a child, and he made a comment about how great the show was. The man then climbed the stairs and stood in front of them. He had a rather grotesque look, with his white face, his long black coat, his purple latex gloves, his bowl haircut, his enormous sunglasses, his dope hat and his colorful cane. Violet was the first to react:

"Who are you ?"

The old man who was with Charlie Bucket replied, cheerfully: "He's Willy Wonka !"

The great chocolatier was trying to look majestic and cheerful, but inside him, he was boiling with hatred and disgust. He hated children. More than anything in the world. And these ones were the worst of all.

_Let's see_, he thought while observing his guests, _we have a pathetic little tramp, a snobbish, selfish, spoiled girl, a Hell's Angel who smokes too young, a repulsive fat-ass, an irritating know-it-all, and last but not least, a gum-chewing, obnoxious and over-competitive little brat. The worst of all, and I'll have to stand seeing them pollute my magnificient factory for a whole day. Well, I think I can make it. Later, I will enjoy their company when these five brats will serve my... what ?_

Wonka counted them. They were supposed to be five, but they were six. It was the young rebel. The one who looked like a girl, with his cigarillo. What was he doing here ? He wasn't one of the winners, after all. Well, he would consider this problem inside. The candyman improvised a rather awkward greeting speech that did not please any of the guests (_stupid children, I hate them, I hate them ! What gives them the right to look at me in that condescending manner ? Insolent monsters ! But you'll regret it, my kids, I promise you will regret it in the most painful way.._.)

"Well," he concluded, "let's get in !"

The group followed their hosts through the set and arrived in a long and large hallway, with grey walls and a red carpet on the floor. The hugeness of the hall was simply breathtaking. Willy Wonka took off his coat and his glasses, revealing purple eyes and a burgundy blazer.

"Toss your coats," he said, "anywhere."

They did, except Aleksey. Wonka made three steps before Violet litterally jumped on him and hugged him like a teddybear. The candymaker almost fainted. _They're more disgusting than slugs !_

"Very happy to meet you, Mr Wonka ! I'm Violet Beauregard."

"I don't care."

"Well, you should, because I'm gonna win the prize !"

_"Oh, but you're gonna win a very special prize. I've prepared one especially for you, I'm sure you will... hate it, my dear blueberry girl..."_

That's what he wanted to say, but instead, he said: "Well, you seem very confident, and confidence is the key."

Then, it was the other girl's turn. She gave him her best smile, made a reverence and said in an official tone: "I am Veruca Salt. I'm honored to meet you, Mr Wonka."

_"Me too, and I promise you will findthis Tour particularily... hot, my little rotten nut."_

Again, he did not say what he thought. He said: "I always thought a Veruca was a kind of wart you've got at the bottom of your foot."

Seeing the girl's face, he had managed to offend her. Quite proud of himself, he moved on, but his way was blocked by this impressive German fat bag, who was speaking while devoring a Fudgemallow bar.

"I'm Augustus Gloop. I luff your chocolate !"

_"Oh, really ? That's funny, because you're actually going to become one !"_

But instead of that, he made a silly comment about how much they had in common. At that moment, he felt someone gazing at him from behind. He turned round to meet computer-boy's dark glance:

"You... you're Mike Teavee, the little devil who cracked the system."

He added in his mind: _"Would you like to be shattered in millions of pieces all around the world ?"_

"And you," he said to Charlie, "you're just lucky to be here !"

_"Not so lucky, in fact. Except if you're a fan of surgery..."_

Then he looked at the last one. The biker. The boy who looked likeone of the Dimmu Borgir. The intruder.

_"And what could I do with you ? Well, I'm sure I'll find you some use..."_

"Excuse me, boy, but it is forbidden to smoke inside."

"Of course. Excuse me."

And, right in front of a horrified chocolatier, the Hell's spit his cigarillo and crushed it on the carpet with his boot. Wonka thought that he was maybe the worst of the children. A lout, with a distasteful clothing and rude manners.

_"I'll sure have a great pleasure making you eat that thing, it may repair your voice, you leather-dressed bastard !"_

He tried his best to smile, and asked as politely as he could: "Who are you by the way ?"

"Aleksey Stoyanovitch. I'm one of the winners."

"No, you're not. There are only five."

"Well, looks like there are six."

"May I see your Golden Ticket ?"

The boy handed him the Ticket. The front was scorched and badly printed. It was clearly a production error. The computer had understood six instead of five. These damn machines never work as they should ! Wonka knew he shouldn't have installed Microsoft Windows 95 ! It was only good at making bugs over bugs ! Anyway, one more child was not disturbing. As a wiseman said, the more we are at the party, the more we laugh. Except that as he saw the party, _he_ would laugh, and _they_ would cry. But there was one detail, though...

"But why didn't we here anything from you on TV, or in newspapers ?"

"I'm from Kazakhstan, Mr Wonka."

"I see... how old are you ?"

"Thirteen."

"And you don't have any parents to accompany you ?"

"That's to say... they couldn't abandon the farm. We're not very rich, you know."

"Okay. Then welcome to my factory, Aleksey !"

Wonka said it cheerfully, but he was somewhat worried. This boy didn't look trustworthy. He felt that he was hiding something. Whatever ! Once the parents would be away, these six children would be at his mercy, totally defenseless. That's where the fun would begin...

"So, everyone's here, let's go !"

On these words, the chocolatier headed to the other end of the corridor, with the group marching behind him. While they were walking up the long hallway, Mr Salt whispered to his daughter:

"Try again..."

Veruca obeyed and walked faster to be beside Violet. The two girls looked at each others, like two cats when there's only one bowl of food, and Veruca said:

"Let's be friends !"

"Best friends !"

And they took each others' arm, as if they were actually the world's best friends. This left Mr Salt alone with the Kazakh.

"They're too cute !" commented Alex sarcastically.

"Tell me, young man," asked the gentleman, "what's your pronostic ?"

"My pronostic ?"

"Yes."

"I'm pessimistic."

"Why ?"

"I don't know. Everything sounds wrong in that place."

"Could you be more precise ?"

"Well, there are the children. The girls in particular..."

"I don't understand. They've just become friends."

"Mr Salt, when I was a child..."

"You're still a child."

"When I was a _normal_ child, most of my closest friends were girls. I know how they think. Here, they've merely concluded a temporary pact, and they will catch the first occasion to break it and jump at each other's throat. Or, second possibility, they're lesbians."

"Excuse me ?"

"Only joking, Mr Salt."

"Twisted sense of humor... and what about the others ?"

"The German, Augustus. This glutton will eat everything on his path. I predict a liver attack before the end of the day. Mike, the little genius. Stupid and arrogant. Ready to do everything to prove his superiority. Will commit a bullshit at the first occasion. And for Charlie... I don't know. Too shy, maybe. He could panick too easily in case of problem. And if it was only for the kids... this building itself is a problem."

"What do you mean ?"

"Would you expect so much from a factory ? So big, so warm, so... beautiful ? I know what factories look like inside, Mr Salt. Even if it's a candy factory, all factories work the same way. I just can't get rid of the idea that it's more than a simple chocolate factory. This place looks like... a scenery. As if..."

"As if he was intentionally keeping us away from the core of the factory, and showing us only a beautiful side, to allay our vigilance..."

"Yeah, something like that."

"And what about the man himself ? Wonka, I mean."

"Looks like Hannibal Lecter met Marilyn Manson. Do I need to explain more ?"

"No, I think I got the idea. What you're saying worries me more and more. Respect the terms of the contract and I double the price."

"Thank you, sir."

"I'm counting on you."

"You won't regret it."

At this moment, the group stopped in front of a tiny door. Wonka looked at his guests and said:

"Okay, now we're about to enter the factory properly speaking. You all know the rules, no parents are allowed beyond this point, so that your children won't be influenced and I'll be able to judge on their real personality to choose the winner. Parents, have a nice day, and don't worry, I'll personally watch over your kids to make sure they're safe."

He just added mentally: _"Poor parents, you just don't realize you've abandoned your beloved children to their cruel and horrible fate. You will never see them again..."_

All the parents bent down to kiss their offsprings and wish them good luck.

_"That's it, last kiss good-bye !"_

Then they turned back and headed to the exit. Before going, Mr Salt put a hand on the Kazakh's shoulder. To wish him good luck too, but for another purpose than the special prize.

The parents walked down the corridor, without saying a word. Finally, as they were almost at the door, Mrs Beauregard declared:

"I don't feel secure. I know my Violet is strong and perfectly able to defend herself, but still. Something's bugging me about that factory."

"You're perfectly right, young lady." replied the oldest man, Joe Bucket. "My son gave a razorblade to my little Charlie, just in case."

"I gave my tazer gun to Mike," said Mr Teavee. "He knows how to use it, and his extreme intelligence can get him out of any troubles."

"Mein Augustus has the flick knife of my husband. I don't like knowing that my son is carrying a weapon, but it's maybe more secure. After all, I won't be here to protect him."

"I see that everyone thought about it," said Mr Salt. "Everyone had the idea to give their children a self-defense item."

"What about you ?" asked Mrs Beauregard. "Didn't you provide your daughter any protection ?"

The rich man looked at Stella and gave her a mysterious smile. The blond woman realized he was quite handsome. A bit like Richard Gere mixed with a _so-british _style. He smiled, and said:

"Do not worry about my daughter, darling. She has the best protection I could find for her."

And in the middle of the corridor, while the children were getting in and the adults were getting out, a black mamba, one of the most dangerous snakes on Earth, was lying on the floor. The reptile sticked out his tongue and, after being sure that no-one had seen him, crawled on the red carpet, headed to the wall, and disappeared into a tiny air vent.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, the children are in big trouble, although they don't know that yet... I made this child-torturer version of Wonka out of the legendary Bogeyman. I know that someone had this ideaalready, I don't remember who, but he's never finished his fanfic. So frustrating !

By the way, trivia time: _Last Kiss Good-Bye_. It's the title of a song from one of my favorite bands: LORDI


	8. Bad Taste Candy

Okay, sorry for the long time, but I don't sleep well lately, and I've got to find an appartment, and I just bought that game, _Fahrenheit_, that keeps me hooked... all this to tell you that this chapter was written very slowly, and I hope to be faster for the next ones ! Anyway, this chapter contains no horror yet, it tells the visit of the chocolate room, featuring Aleksey using super-senses, Mike taking himself for a super-hero (poor boy, he's so naïve !) and Charlie talking about girls. Hope you enjoy. Oh, and a note for Venus: ah ah, scared you ! I knew that Neptune didn't like gay pairings, so I put this lesbian hint especially for her. But as my character said, "only joking", so there will be absolutely no slash or whatever you call them in my story.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why is this door so small ?" asked Mike.

His question was pertinent: the door in question was barely ten centimeters high. But Wonka gave him his you-know-you're-not-very-smart smile and said:

"To keep all the flavor inside !"

And on these words, the chocolatier put a big key into a tiny lock, but the door did not open: it was the whole wall which opened in front of the kids, letting them see one of the most wonderful places of the world, a preview of Paradise: a gigantic indoor garden that represented a reduced model of a natural landscape, with small hills, small valleys, small cliffs, and even a real river that began with a waterfall and ended in a large tunnel. The ground was covered of bright green grass and various vegetation. There were two natural-looking bridges that allowed to cross the river. All this looked like a perfect greenhouse, a miracle of Nature who managed to reproduce a small-sized paradisiac landscape in the middle of the factory. But in fact, it was way more impressive than that, when the children realized that the river was not of water but liquid chocolate, the trees were made of hard crystallized sugar, with toffee apples, gobstoppers or jellybeans growing on the branches. There were various mushrooms, the smallest being made of chantilly cream and the largest made of meringue with strawberry jam in the core. There were some exotic-looking trees, with creepers made of blue iced sugar. What looked like a rose bush happened to grow some large, spiral-shaped lollipops instead of flowers. The plants were all growing candies instead of flowers and fruits. The plants themselves were candy. And in the air, you could smell the pleasant and delicate scent of chocolate and flavored sugar. This was a candy garden ! All the children lost their voice. The splendor of this room made them speechless. Augustus even dropped his chocolate bar. All their anxiety, all the advices of their parents, were lost: nothing bad could happen here. Because nothing bad ever happens in Heaven, and that's where they were, in Heaven !

"Don't lose your head..." advised Wonka. _"I need you alive..." _he added in thoughts.

A satisfied smile drew on his face when he saw his hosts' faces. He had just done it. He had lured them in his trap. They were now under control. Things were so easy with children... no matter how suspicious they were, no matter how much they were advised not to trust strangers, you just had to give them candy to become their new best friend. Except... the little Mike Teavee seemed a bit more reserved. Wonka remembered having heard on TV that he didn't like chocolate. The chocolatier plotted to count on children's candylust to coax them. This one required a different tactic. But everything was already planned. And what about this Alex ? He was impressed, like the others, but in the same time, he seemed to be... watching over the situation. Yes, that was it: he seemed way less credulous than his conterparts, trying to detect the errors, the possible traps, trying to see the situation with logic. Wonka cursed him. At first, he thought that one unexpected child wasn't a problem, but if this child thought like an adult, he would be hard to handle. This one could make the whole operation a failure. Okay, time to begin the show:

"The waterfall is the most important !" he was walking to the center of the room while talking, making the children follow him. "It's mixing my chocolate, making it light and tasteful. Can you see those flying pipes ? They take the chocolate from the river to bring it to the different production rooms. Millions of gallons per hour !"

"Isn't it wonderful ?" they crossed one of the bridges and Wonka tapped the ground with his cane. "Taste some of my grass !"

"We can eat the grass ?" asked Charlie.

"Of course ! It's made of Sugar Mint ! And not only the grass, everything in this room is edible. Even I am, but this, my dear children, is called cannibalism, and it's frowned upon in most societies."

The children made a "what-the-Hell" face. Wonka was quite satisfied by their reaction. Just an innocent joke. That's what it seemed. None of them knew that they were all cannibalists...

As he was invited to, Aleksey bent down to pick up a blade of grass, and ate it. His face tensed in disgust, but nobody noticed it, nor they heard him murmuring for himself: _"Sugar Mint, my ass. I can recognize a Sugar Flip when I eat one."_

"I see that your Leather Rebel friend could not resist," declared Wonka. "You should all do like him. Come on, go and enjoy yourselves !"

Since they saw the room, the children were craving to ease their candy urge, and the chocolatier didn't need to repeat the order twice: they all spreaded up in the room to let their eyes and mouth explore the wonders of the magic garden.

But when Veruca passed beside the Hell's, he gently but firmly grabbed her by the arm.

"Hey," she asked calmly but angrily, "what's your problem ?"

He approached his mouth very close to her hear so that nobody would hear, and whispered:

"Don't you have the impression that it all looks like a children's paradise ?"

"Indeed it is a paradise, so let me have fun, that's why I came."

And on these words, the little girl broke free and went to search for an attractive candy. She picked up one of those large spiral lollipops. Aleksey was observing her, feeling a very thin thing he thought was sadness. She didn't understand that he wanted to warn her against what looked too much like a scenery. Of course, she didn't understand: she was just a child. He took a look at the others, who were also picking out candy (or, for Mike, gleefully destroying everything at range), all with bright innocent smiles on their faces. They were children. None of them could understand the importance of being suspectful. For them, a wonderful man offered them a sugar paradise, and that was all. Needless to ask oneself what were his motives. Needless to look for anomalies, to care for possible traps, to suspect their mysterious host. After all, why would a bad guy offer them candy ? It made no sense. He _couldn't_ be a bad guy. That's what they thought, because as children, they had this bipolar view of psychology: there were the bads, and the goods, and Wonka was one of the goods. They were only children.

Aleksey thought it was weird: he was not much older than them, and even younger than Veruca and Augustus, but contrary to them, he was not a child. Not anymore. He closed his eyes and waited, as he felt a painful wave of random flashbacks was coming. Because you see, certain events can make you grow up very fast:

_"Snake, don't !"_

_The sharp spur of the boot stops five centimeters over his head. In this empty night club, there's already three dead, but I spare the last one. Jessy's kneeling down before me, crying. At this moment, I know I've reached a point of no return..._

_The bathtub is filled with blood. The blood of a boy. The body is dismembered, unrecognizable. The powerful acid I pour on it slowly turns it to a gruesome magma of flesh that goes down the water drain..._

_It's night. In the forest, the scene is lighted up by the lights of a wreck that used to be a pick-up truck. In his last breath, the boy who was lying down beside the car, looking at me, just said: "You Are A Monster..."_

_Same night, on an empty road, I'm kneeling down beside my friend, who's laying on the road, her skirt ripped off by the shock of the accident, her naked legs horribly scarred and bloody. She asks: "Why do you that, Snake ? You have no reason to do that..."_

Aleksey opened his eyes. These memories were painful, but didn't make him sad. He couldn't be sad. He was only twelve years old when it happened. So young, and a life already wrecked up. He didn't feel any emotions at all, since that fateful night. Yes, he grew up and became an adult too soon. Okay, enough thinking, he had some work to do: since he entered the garden, he had smelled something that wasn't candy. There was a weird scent in the air, that only him could detect, and that he wanted to identify...

Augustus was moving around the room like a hurricane, devoring everything in his path, just as foreseen. The leather boy then decided it was wiser to leave him alone, and went for Mike Teavee, who was stomping a giant candy mushroom, breaking the meringue and letting the strawberry jam flow on the grass. Aleksey watched him for a moment, then asked:

"Aren't you supposed to actually eat it ?"

"I can't help," replied the little genius, "I just don't like candy."

"Then what are you doing in a candy factory ?"

"Finding the Ticket was a proof of my intelligence, so I take the reward, whatever it is."

What he really thought but didn't say was: _"In fact, I'm here because I'm about to solve an intrigue about you, something that could make me the hero of the day. And maybe the hero of Violet Beauregard too."_

He looked at her. She was sitting on a root, enjoying a chantilly mushroom. She was so beautiful, he would have given everything just to be able to smell her golden hair, to touch her soft hands, to kiss her tender lips... _Mike ! Stop those romantic feelings, you're not a sissy !_

"Can I have a taste ?" asked the Kazakh.

"What ?" asked Mike, silently thanking him for distracting him from embarrassing thoughts.

"I said, could you move out of that... thing. I'd like to taste the strawberry."

"Why, sure."

Mike stepped away and watched his friend taking his meal. The biker boy put a finger in the red goo, and then put it in his mouth and sucked the jam. Then, he grimaced.

"Bad taste ?" asked Mike.

"Try some."

Mike did exactly the same move to put some jam in his mouth. Well, it didn't taste great. Mostly because there was too much sugar. Mike had a problem with sugar, that's why he didn't like candy. Beside that, it just tasted like plain strawberry jam. What was so...

Then it came, like a chiming bell: Aleksey had tasted something that Mike _couldn't_ taste. Since they entered the factory, he had discreetly observed the Asian boy, and heard many things that let guess he had a sixth sense. After all, someone who could observe and draw conclusions that easily _needed_ to have a sixth sense. That's what Mike first thought, and now, the strawberry jam had given him the proof: he could definitely smell and taste things normal people could not. It was superhuman ! It was... like a super-hero.

_No_, he thought. _There can be only one super-hero here, and it will be me. This guy, let's say he's my super-enemy. After all, it makes sense: I have the superhuman intelligence, and he has the dangerous animal instinct. We're opposites, and like a wiseman said, "You recognize a bad guy because he's always the perfect opposite of the hero"._

And the worst is that the poor TV-boy was sure of that. He was really sure that before the end of the day, he would have to fight Aleksey to save Violet and the factory. He was so stuck in his own comic-like fantaisies that he'd never admit hecouldbecompletely wrong.

Meanwhile, in another part of the garden, Charlie Bucket was studying his approach. Veruca, who was only five meters ahead, had not noticed him, too busy licking her lollipop. She was so lovely ! With his heart ponding hard enough to break his ribcage, the young boy walked the five meters. He was now right beside her !

"Huh, hi !"

The girl turned her head to see whom that shy, almost inaudible voice belonged to, and her eyes met this kid, Charlie Bucket. She immediately noticed he had an embarrassed smile on his face, which had turned bright red. That was cute ! The boy himself wasn't so bad... maybe because between an arrogant pseudo-goth and a rude Hell's Angel, he was the only acceptable boy of the Tour. But, Veruca thought, if it was only that, she wouldn't feel that kind of warmness in her stomach, would she ? Because she liked his presence, when he was around it was tickling her inside, it was very pleasant... anyway, she had to ignore this feeling. He was younger and, most of all, he was poor, therefor she had no reason to be friend with him. That's why she decided to snub him:

"Excuse me, where did you hear that you could just show up like that and talk to me ? I'm not a playground buddy, you know."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I was... was just... trying to be nice."

"Okay, so let me explain you: we can't mix the classes. I am rich and powerful, and you are just a plain tramp."

"But money doesn't make a sense."

"Rubbish. Money is all. There is a world between us, my friend, so you've got to step aside. That's all."

And on these words, the young girl walked away, leaving alone a heartbroken Charlie. He wouldn't cry. No, he wouldn't cry. After all, he was expecting what happened. He'd been having a crush on her since he saw her on TV, but he already knew how rotten she actually was. He knew he stood very little chance to please her, and what happened just proved it. A plain tramp... it's true that his family wasn't especially rich, but they were a close, loving family, that's the most important, and he wouldn't let his morale be destroyed by this spoiled brat. Like his Daddy said, _"maybe she wasn't the right girl, after all."_

He took a look around and noticed a candy apple hanging at the edge of a branch. That would be enough to comfort him. He approached the apple, but as he was about to take it, a hand appeared out of nowhere and snatched it. His eyes followed the hand to see its owner, and he realized it was that overcompetitive girl, Violet Beauregard. Intrigued, he watched her taking her chewing gum out of her mouth and sticking it behind her ear. He asked:

"Why don't you toss it away, and take another one ?"

"Because if I did, I wouldn't be a champion. I'd be a loser, just like you."

Violet was secretly enjoying the saddened face he made. Mocking people was truly enjoyable ! She took a bite from the apple, and she felt something against her foot. She bent her head down to see something crawling very close to her trainers. A snake ! Quickly, she threw the apple away and ran out of Charlie's sight. The apple was still in the air, and it was falling. Charlie expected it to fall on the ground, but in fact, it fell on a black gloved hand. Aleksey watched the girl running and whispered:

"This Jessy is so interesting..."

"Violet," replied Charlie. "Her name's Violet."

"Yes, I know."

"You called her Jessy..."

_Shit, _Aleksey thought, _that girl is really obsessing me. Everything reminds me my Jessy, even the way she dresses ! _

And now, the love he had shared with Jessy, the feeling he believed he'd never experience again, was slowly coming back. Towards Violet, this time, though he didn't know yet if it was because of the girl herself or her similarity with Jessy.

"Violet..." he whispered. "Still, she's a beautiful girl. Only if she had not this irritating behavior..."

"Well," said Charlie, "I prefer Veruca."

"A matter of taste. But I've got to admit that Veruca's not bad either."

Aleksey looked at his friend, and noticed the sadness in his eyes.

"You got snubbed, that's it ?"

"Yeah..."

"Don't worry, I've noticed something interesting about your dear Veruca: her heart beats faster when you're around. I heard it."

"How could you hear it ? It's impossible."

"You wouldn't believe if I told you. I just can, that's all."

"So... does it mean that she loves me ?"

"No, it means that she's _attracted_ to you. The evolution of this attraction will all depend on how you act towards her. My advice: take every opportunity to get closer to her. If she sees that you're also attracted to her, something may happen. All hopes aren't lost, pal. Trust me."

Charlie felt extremely thankful to this guy for cheering him up. Yeah, that was right: all hopes couldn't be lost so early. There was always a chance. The leather guy took a bite from the apple, then spitted it as if it was spinach. Then he asked:

"Would you do me a favor ?"

"What favor ?"

"Have a taste. Tell me what you think."

Intrigued by his new friend's odd attitude, Charlie took the apple and bit it.

"It's excellent ! I don't see what..."

He stopped speaking when he realized that Aleksey had vanished. Disappeared, purely and simply. How did he do that ? And what was wrong with the apple ? Maybe he didn't like sugar. Maybe he didn't like caramel. _Or maybe he tasted something that Charlie couldn't._

Violet sat on a root and calmed herself. There was no snake here. Just an hallucination. That dream, and the bizarre events in the hotel, were turning her crazy. She saw snakes everywhere, but there were no snakes. _Calm down, you're a big girl..._

"I wonder," said a whispering voice behind her, "why don't you try to make friends instead of scorning everyone around ?"

She turned round to face the biker boy. Maybe he was right, after all, her mother wasn't here, it was the perfect occasion to try to be nicer, once in her lifetime. But she wasn't in the mood to receive lectures. And that guy, although he was quite handsome (she liked mature boys, and he was certainly more mature than Charlie or Mike), was scary. He looked too much like the one of her nightmares. And he was a smoker, yuk ! She got up and replied, aggressively:

"And you, why don't you go riding the Route 66 with other punks like you and leave me alone ?"

She left him behind and began to walk away, when he said:

"There'ssssssss no need to be aggressssssssive, young lady."

That voice ! The same as in the hotel hallway ! So that was him, the "monster" ! She turned back and shouted:

"You are the..."

She stopped abruptly, because she was talking to nobody. He had disappeared. _How could he..._

"People ! Come here ! Come and see this !"

Those screams... it was Veruca. What did that unbearable pest want again ?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What really happened in Aleksey's past ? What did he exactly taste in the candies ? Will Charlie finally earn Veruca's esteem ? Will Aleksey and Mike have to fight ?See the answers in next chapter !

A few details I'd like to precise:

Aleksey's nickname, Leather Rebel, comes from a song by heavy-metal band Judas Priest.

Mike's "wiseman" quote comes from the movie _Unbreakable_.

And Augustus will soon get in troubles !


	9. A Rather Different Direction

Waw, loooooooooong chapter here ! I hope it will excuse my rather slow writing ! Okay, after spending a week on it, completely junked with caffeine and the movie's themes playing in loop, I finished it ! It deals with Augustus' fate and the boat ride, but it still follows the movie's action. For now, I follow the movie with some new elements inserted in (to make it horror-ish, of course), I will become original when everything will go wrong (and it's rather soon). I tried to build some tension here, with the pipe incident, Aleksey's revelations and the memory of a murder... tell me what you think of it, please !

PS: again, the dialogue lines in itallics are Willy Wonka's non-said thoughts.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The little spoiled girl was standing on the shore of the river, and pointing her finger at something up ahead. The other children began to gather around her to see what was happening, except Augustus who was too busy doing you know what, and Aleksey who had disappeared. Mr Wonka arrived first, followed by Charlie. Mike wasn't hurrying, persuaded that it was nothing important. Violet arrived behind him. She screamed:

"Watch out !"

And, without giving him a chance to react, she sweeped his legs and he landed heavily on the grass. The little brute was laughing with glee.

"Aouch," said Mike, "my butt ! Are you crazy ?"

"I can't help," she replied with a scorning tone, "it was too tempting."

"Setting my cheeks on fire this morning wasn't enough ?"

"The slaps were for the kiss. Here, it's for the _Street Fighter _game."

Mike let out a sigh.

"You don't like losing, right ?"

"Who does ?"

He got up and watched her heading to the group. He was sure she hadn't been intentionally mean to him, she just seemed to have a passion for brutalizing people. This leg sweep was friendly. He heard that in her laughter. Maybe she liked him, after all. And she tried to show it in her very special way...

He finally reached the group as they were all watching a small hill, asking question such as "What are they ?", or "They're little men ?"

On top of that hill, there was a dozen of tiny dark-skinned men wearing bright red jumpsuits. Tiny means that they were not higher than a child's leg. They were all busy collecting candy fruits, and they paid little attention to the kids. Better this way, because the kids didn't like them. They didn't know what was the real problem. Maybe their inexpressive faces, or their dark gaze, or the fact that they were small and numerous, like a group of fairytale trolls... anyway, they had something disturbing. The kids had really enjoyed their time in the garden, but now they felt that if they knew that these... things were also here, they may have not spread up the way they did. None of them was willing to get too close to one of those midgets, still without knowing the real problem. Maybe it was just an abstract feeling, but it got them all: Charlie was instinctively squeezing the purple hand of Willy Wonka (who shivered in disgust); Veruca was breathing faster and having cold sweat; Mike was having goosebumps and his forearm hair were rising up; even Violet felt uneasy, and clenched her fists and contracted her arm muscles, ready to defend herself. Only Augustus wasn't paying attention, of course. A few seconds passed, and nothing happened. The midgets didn't attack the children. But it wasn't enough to reassure them. Wonka was secretly enjoying the situation: creatures from foreign lands have always been a major source of fear for children. Look at the adventure cartoons and TV shows they watch: barbarian Huns, cannibal tribes, communists, or in a more fantastic level, trolls, minotaurs and extraterrestrials are alwaysdepicted as a constant threat. Therefor, it wasn't surprising that they were afraid of the Oompa Loompas. Plus, the dark-skinned midgets were disturbing by nature. Partially because of a few of their customs that are not quite...

"What the Hell are those freaks ?" asked Mike with a quite aggressive voice.

"They're Oompa Loompas !"

"Oompa Loompas ?" everyone asked.

"Yeah, coming right from Loompaland !"

"There's no such place," stated Mike abruptly.

"Excuse me ? I don't understand a word of your mumblings !"

"Mr Wonka, my father's a teacher in geography, and..."

"Okay, then you deserve to know everything about this country, and what horrible place it can be !"

Wonka then began telling them the story of his travel to the foreign country of Loompaland. While he was talking, the snake Violet had seen earlier, which was not an hallucination, crawled towards them and stopped ten meters away. It was a king cobra, and he stood as high as he could, as if he was very interested by the story. No-one noticed him. But in fact, he wasn't listening, he was watching. He was observing the surroundings with an extreme attention, as if he knew that something would happen soon, and was preparing for it.

"And that's how they came here to work in my factory," concluded the chocolatier. "For you see, Oompa Loompas are crazy of cocoa beans and human flesh, and this factory contains all what they want, so it was a very interesting trade for them."

"Did you say human flesh ?"

"You should really stop mumbling, little boy, it is truly irritating !"

He hadn't answered the question, but they had all heard it. _Human flesh_... what was this lapsus hiding ? Was it just a bad joke ? No, they didn't feel so. The problem was that their instinct told them they were in danger, while their reason told them it was pure imagination, probably triggered by abuse of sugar. Or a misunderstood joke, twisted by their fear of the small men. They finally decided to follow their reason. No need to be hysteric for a simple misunderstanding.

"Hey," suddenly said Charlie, "have you noticed that Aleksey has disappeared ?"

"That's right," replied Mike, "where did he go ? Can't see him anywhere..."

"It sure's not a great loss," declared Violet, "that guy was freaking me out, anyway."

Mike felt personally hurt by what she said, because he really liked the Asian boy. He gave her a dark glance and said:

"If all the persons you don't like had to disappear, you'd be alone in the world, Violet."

"I don't think so: there would still be you."

She gently tapped his shoulder while saying that, making Mike more and more confused: did she like him or not ? Why did she keep playing with him like that ? Why didn't she just say it clearly ? Girls have so inhuman ways to torture boys !

"She's not so wrong," added Veruca. "I don't know if I'd have really appreciated to have this black rider beside me till the end of the Tour. He dresses badly and speaks like a Forketongue, in _Harry Potter_."

Wonka silently observed them debating, fascinated by the immense cruelty and disdain those little beings were capable of. And he laughed in his head when he thought about how they would act slightly differently in a few hours... but the topic of their debate was bugging him: he himself didn't know where Smoking-Bastard was. He hadn't made him disappear. He planned to do that later. Aleksey had disappeared by himself, and the chocolatier shivered when he realized that this suspectful boy could now be virtually anywhere in the facility. Out of control. Nonsense ! There was nowhere you could go in the factory without being spotted by an Oompa Loompa. Beside, for safety reasons, Willy Wonka had locked all the doors that weren't included in the visit. He was definitely still in this room. But where ?

"Watch out !" cried someone, interrupting the chocolatier's thoughts. It was the spoiled brat, Veruca Salt. "Augustus, watch out ! Can be dangerous here !"

In fact, the girl didn't feel any real sympathy for the fat boy, but as she was the most mature person of the Tour (after all, the only one who was older than her was Augustus, and he had a stomach instead of a brain), she felt in a way responsible of them. In the absence of the adults, she was the big person, and she liked this idea. It gave her some importance. That's why she felt the necessity to call back the glutton, who was on the opposite shore, kneeling down and drinking from the chocolate river. Too close to the edge.

"Little boy ?" asked Mr Wonka. "My chocolate must not be touched by human hands."

But Augustus didn't listen, and in his attempts to drink as much chocolate as he could, he eventually lost balance and fell in the river. He immediately started struggling and screaming:

"Help !... Can't... Swim !"

He was swallowing gallons of chocolate between words, and he didn't seem to progress to the shore.

"He's drowning !" Screamed Charlie. "Mr Wonka, we've got to help him !"

The candymaker didn't reply: he was looking at a flying container which was approaching the river. He knew what was going to happen. A smile drew on his face: so far, his plan was working perfectly, and they hadn't seen anything coming. The container stopped and stood in stationary flight over the river, close to the German boy. Then, the huge pipe slid down in the chocolate and began sucking. The sucking was so powerful that it created a furious whirlpool around the pipe, a whirlpool in which Augustus was driven for his misfortune. The kids' minds were now crushed by the pressure of so much suspense. They could do nothing but stay still, speechless, and watch as Augustus was drawing circles in the water, passing in front of them, then behind the pipe, then back in front of them... and they noticed they heard his screams much better when he passed in front of them. Finally, he got sucked into the pipe and started racing upwards. He litteraly took off !

"Waw !" murmured Mike.

"Here he goes..." commented Violet.

"It's a miracle that those pipes are large enough !" declared Veruca.

"They're not !" replied Charlie. "Look, he's stuck !"

He was right. The fat boy was stuck in the middle of the pipe, his big stomach making him unable to continue. And the chocolate under him was piling up to form a compact black mass.

"What's gonna happen now ?" asked Charlie.

"Well..." began Wonka, but he was interrupted by a sound, a murmuring that seemed to come from the back of the room.

"Did you hear that ?" asked Mike.

"What is that ?" asked Veruca.

The sound was getting louder and more complex, more melodic, as some kind of... music ?

"The Oompa Loompas !" screamed Willy Wonka with joy. "I think they're gonna give us a show !"

And on his words, about three dozens of red-dressed midgets burst in the room out of nowhere and ran around the pipe where the poor boy was still stuck, and they started dancing, doing gymnastic figures and singing some kind of musical drama:

_Augustus Gloop! Augustus Gloop!  
The great big greedy nincompoop!  
Augustus Gloop, so big and vile,  
So greedy, foul and infantile!  
"Come on," we cried, "The time is ripe,  
To send him shooting up the pipe!"  
But don't dear children be alarmed  
Augustus Gloop will not be harmed!  
Augustus Gloop will not be harmed!_

At the very last rhyme, the chocolate mass finally won against the pipe and pushed Augustus up to the container. Then, the flying machine just flew out of the room, bringing its prisoner away. Augustus was gone.

The kids were motionless, still under the shock. Finally, Charlie whispered:

"This is terrible..."

"No," cheerfully said the chocolatier, "they were only joking ! He will be safe !"

_"Of course they were joking, especially for the three last rhymes."_

"I can assure you that nothing bad will happen to him."

_"At least, nothing worse than what I've prepared for the rest of you."_

"Still," said Mike, "all this show... it seems..."

"To have been prepared," finished Violet.

"Nonsense ! Improvisation is all, little girl. I'll show you: tell me a word."

"Chewing gum ?"

"Okay, listen to this: _Chewing gum is very gross, Chewing gum I hate the most_. You see ? It's easy."

But Mike, and the other kids, knew it was not improvisation. Improvising two rhymes is maybe easy, but a whole song ? With dancing performance and a synchronized swimming ? Impossible. However, he decided to say nothing. For the first time, the little genius shut it up. They all shut it up. Since they entered the Chocolate Room, they had felt perfectly well and forgotten all of their parents' advices, but now, it was different. The midgets, Augustus' accident, the "improvised" musical show... too many weird things happening at the same time. They were not prepared for it, and now unease began to invade them. For the first time since their arrival, they began giving credit to their parents. For the first time, they began considering the potential of danger in this place, and with this man...

_Meanwhile, outside the factory..._

The parents were gathered in the hotel restaurant, having their lunch. They had decided to stay together until their children come back, to ease the inevitable stress they were all victims of. An idea of Mr Salt.

Mrs Beauregard was eating absent-mindedly while talking with Mrs Gloop. The two mothers had the same concerns about the welfare of their kids.

"I just hope mein Augustus is okay," said Mrs Gloop. "I'm worried, I know he can't control himself when he's surrounded by candy..."

"I don't think you should worry that much, Mrs Gloop. Augustus is fifteen years old, he's big enough to control himself, don't you think so ? A young adult like him will surely know what to do if something goes wrong."

"Ja, maybe you're right. But still..."

Mrs Beauregard took a look at a table at her left, where Mr Salt and the old man were talking. Mr Salt... her conversation with the German woman had brought a question she wanted to ask him.

She asked Mrs Gloop to excuse her a minute, got up, and walked to the English gentleman's table. The two men were apparently sharing youth experiences:

"You see," explained Mr Salt, "I moved to Paris when I was nineteen, in 1968 to study economy. A few months later, riots broke out, and the streets were set on fire. It was amazing and frightening to see all those rebels fighting against the police. There were even hysterics screaming Revolution in March ! At this moment, I told myself: what am I doing here ? I was really scared, but fortunately, it only lasted a few days..."

"Young man, you can consider yourself lucky. When I was nineteen myself, I was sent to France, in the trenches, to fight the German army. I can remember one particular day when..."

"Excuse me," Mrs Beauregard gently interrupted, "Mr Bucket, I'd like to have a word with Mr Salt, it is... quite important. Would you..."

The old man gave her a warm smile and got up saying:

"Of course, my dear child. Don't feel embarrassed..."

She did, indeed, feel a little embarrassed to appear abruptly like that, but the kindness of the old man made her feel better. Joe Bucket walked away and started a chat with Mr Teavee.

"So," asked Mr Salt, "what did you want to talk about ?"

"I need your opinion. Do you think your daughter is safe in there ?"

"I cannot be categoric, but I think I did what I had to do to keep her away from danger. Afraid about your own ?"

"A bit. I totally trust her, I know how strong she is, physically and mentally. Beside... she's very pretty, and I bet some boys in the Tour would be ready to do anything to protect her, if something bad happens."

"The power of attraction, that makes the boys blind."

"Yeah. I noticed that the leather boy, Aleksey, seemed to be particularily... charmed by her. I wonder who he really is..."

"Didn't he say it ?"

"I don't believe in his sixth ticket story. Sounds too easy to me."

"I think his story is quite plausible."

"It's not only that, it's... his outfit, and his face... it's like I've already seen him somewhere, without being able to remember."

"It's just the stress, Mrs Beauregard. You imagine things."

"Maybe... by the way, when you said you did what you had to do to keep your daughter safe... what did you mean by that ?"

"Let's just say I gave her a rescue plan to use if it gets dangerous..."

_Back in the Factory:_

"Okay, children," said Mr Wonka, "shall we move to the next room of the Tour ? I hope you like strong sensations, because I'm gonna offer you a boat ride down the Chocolate River !"

The kids should be delighted by that, but they were still too puzzled to react. A giant boat slowly arrived in front of them, some kind of sailless drakkar made of pink candy, with dozens of Oompa Loompas rowing. While it was doing the docking manoeuvers, Charlie moved beside the gum-chewing girl. He had something to ask her. He whispered:

"Violet ?"

"Yeah ?"

"What is so scary about Aleksey ?"

"What do you mean ?"

"You said he was freaking you out."

Did she really say that ? How dumb she was ! She had spoken too fast and told the truth. But there was no way she'd admit her fear. What would she look like if she told him that he looked too much like the monster under her bed ? It would be so embarrassing !

"You didn't hear well," she replied. "I said he was pissing me off."

No, Charlie knew what he heard. He asked:

"Are you sure ?"

She gave him a dark, threatening glance which was no more a "beau regard" and replied:

"I am sure of what I said, and you just misunderstood. Clear ?"

Charlie shook his head. No need to insist, it was very unhealthy to annoy her. This girl could be violent when she wanted to. The boat finally stopped still in front of them.

"Everyone on board !"

"But, Mr Wonka," said Mike, "we can't go without Aleksey !"

"Right, little boy, but... where is he ?"

In response, the chocolatier heard a deep whisper from behind:

"Here !"

He had a violent start and let out a high-pitched squeal. He turned round and saw that it was really the Kazakh boy.

_"You think it's funny to scare me like that ? I'll make sure you have a special treatment for that !"_

But instead of saying that, he said:

"Oh, good, you're here. Where were you ?"

"As you invited us: I was exploring the room. Did I miss something ?"

"No, instead of your German comrade who..."

"Yes, I saw what happened. He's gonna be fine, right ?"

"Sure. Okay, now that everyone's here, on board !"

They obeyed, and Mr Wonka sat at the extreme rear of the boat. Charlie sat beside him. He liked the chocolatier, despite of his strange attitude. The others preferred to put some distance and sat two or three benches before Wonka. Aleksey sat beside Mike, while the two girls chosed the bench before them. The boat left the shore and slowly began its descent down the river. Wonka was completely absorbed by his conversation with Charlie. A good time for the other kids to talk safely:

"Alex," whispered Mike, "what were you doing exactly while we were talking and Augustus..."

"As I said, I was exploring the room. Not to enjoy myself, though."

Then, he wriggled his index finger in front of Mike, in a sign that means _come closer_. He did, and Alex whispered in his ear in an extremely low voice:

"I discovered something. Don't tell anyone, I don't want to create a panick. Not now."

"Okay."

"This place is not exactly a chocolate factory."

"What do you mean ?"

"The candies in the garden. I found they had a bad taste, you remember ? They're not ordinary candies. The meringue mushrooms, for example. The red goo it contained was strawberry jam, but mixed with real mushrooms."

"Real mushrooms ?"

"Psilocybes, to be more precise. Hallucinogene mushrooms."

"What ?"

"It's not only that. I also discovered, here and there, some traces of methamphetamines, lysergic acid, and most of the candy trees grow some naturally toxic vegetal alkaloids. Psychoactive drugs, all of them. He cultivates them by putting them in small quantities in his candies. This place is a drug factory."

"This is crazy... is he some kind of dealer, then ?"

"If I had to make a theory, it seems that this factory produces both chocolate and drugs. Altogether."

"It can't be. If the candies sold outside were filled with drugs, they would have been spotted long ago, by police, or quality control..."

"It all depends on the quantity. The candies in the garden were rotten by drugs, and you didn't even taste it. There have to be some extremely small traces in the candies sold outside. Considering the amount of candy a lambda child can eat per day, it ends up making big quantities of drugs. We could say that virtually all the children in the world who eat Wonka candies are junkies without knowing. Without even feeling it."

"You mean it's like the Joker, in _Batman_ ?"

"Yeah, kind of... but there's something else. Another secret ingredient I spotted, but didn't manage to identify. An ingredient that doesn't seem chemical, or vegetal. It seems more of animal origin, but that's all I know."

Mike was breathless... so that was the core of the intrigue ! Aleksey was not the bad guy, it was... Wonka himself ! Mike found it more exciting than any movie plot twist in the world ! But in this case, who was the Asian boy ? The anti-drugs ? A KGB operative ? Or some kind of hero ? Whoever he could be, Mike swore to himself that he would never let him steal the show. If things turned wrong, he would be a hero too. Right, Violet ?

"And," he asked, "you discovered all that just by smelling and tasting ?"

"I have what you could call... hypergeusia, you see."

"But how do you know all these things about drugs ?"

That's the moment Violet chosed to interrupt their conversation. She turned towards them and asked, with a soft and somewhat worried voice that didn't suit her:

"What are you guys talking about ?"

"Ehh... videogames," replied Mike.

"I've got to ask you something, boys."

Veruca also turned her head towards them and joined in the conversation. It was strange: a biker, a mall goth, a sportsgirl and a rich brat, in normal times, would have never gathered like that. And if the "pipe incident" didn't occur, they would've probably continued not talking to each others. But now, they were all worried, they all knew the factory was potentially dangerous, and their primal defensive reflex was to gather up to keep themselves safe. Augustus' disappearence had made them face the danger and forget all kinds of tension, egoism, or scorning attitude that could prevent them from being a real group able to defend each others when needed. It was clear now, for all of them, that since the incident, the Tour wasn't the same anymore. It had taken a rather different direction in their mind.

"So," the blond girl asked, "what do you think about Augustus' incident ?"

"I don't know," replied Aleksey, "I wasn't close when it happened, but for what I saw, Wonka had all the time to pull him out of the river before the pipe sucked him."

"But he did nothing," continued Mike. "He just stood still, completely powerless. I can't believe there wasn't any security system to prevent those kinds of accident. He's completely irresponsible, or he's hiding something."

"There's a detail," intervened Veruca. "I saw Wonka. He was smiling when the pipe approached. As if he was expecting it."

"So you mean he knew what was to happen ?" asked Violet. "What if he plans to make us all disappear, one by one ?"

"I will protect you."

As soon as he said them, Mike regretted those four words._ I will protect you_. They seemed so meaningless, so clichés... the girl looked at him, and he looked away, blushing. She wasn't mad at him for saying that. She liked to know that someone cared about her, even if in case of danger, _she_ would be most likely to protect _him_. The problem was that she suspected him to have a crush on her, while she felt nothing this way for him. She just liked him, nothing more.

"If he plans to take us on one by one," declared Aleksey, "he won't do it using physical coercion. He will do like Augustus: set up traps. So we need to look upon each others, for our safety. Although, it's maybe just paranoia, and Augustus' incident was plain bad luck."

Of course, he didn't believe a word of that. What he discovered in the garden had convinced him. But he needed to reassure them. He didn't want to get into some morbid story with this drug traffic. He just wanted to finish the Tour safely, touch his reward, and get back home.

Suddenly, the lights went out and caught him by surprise.

"What's going on ?"

"We're entering a tunnel," informed Mike.

"It's pitch dark in there !" screamed Veruca. "How do they see where they're rowing ?"

"They don't !" answered Mr Wonka. "That's the fun !"

But, fortunately for the kids, the lights in the tunnel turned on... to let them see the rapids in front of them ! The boat went faster and faster, faster than a rollercoaster, twisting the children's guts and pulling their hair backwards. They were all enjoying the ride, more or less, except Aleksey. The speed, the wind on his face... it was bringing a flashback. He could almost hear the loud noise of a New-Yorkese tramway...

_Twenty meters over the ground, the train was racing at full speed between the buildings of Manhattan, in the middle of the night. A man was lying on the roof, trying to get up in spite of the speed that was pushing him. The man had to find a way out. It was a matter of life. He looked behind him, and saw his enemy. Standing on the roof as if speed wasn't affecting him, twenty meters away, there was Aleksey Stoyanovitch. He was walking slowly, calmly, his coat pushed backwards by the wind but his body standing still, unaffected. He was approaching the man. The man was now panicked: he took his revolver from his pocket and shot at Aleksey. The leather boy dodged the bullet without effort. Another shot. Dodged again. The man used his six bullets, none of them reached its target. The Kazakh was moving way too fast. The man was defenceless, and in his last survival reflex, he screamed. He screamed as the boy arrived near him. He screamed as he was gripped by the collar and lifted from the roof. He screamed as he was thrown over the train. He stopped screaming when he broke his skull on the asphalt, twenty meters below, and fell dead. Aleksey followed him: he jumped out of the train, but he landed lightly on his feet, on the road, as if he had only jumped from two meters instead of twenty. A woman, dressed like a prostitute, approached him._

_"I see you are stronger than you look," she said. "Well done."_

A violent jerk brought him back to the present day, into the boat which was still racing down the rapids. This jerk had made Violet lose balance, and she fell backwards. She fell on him, actually. He had the reflex of grapping her, putting a hand on her back and the other under her arm, to prevent her from falling on the bench and hurting herself.

"Be careful," he said, gingerly.

He should have helped her to get back on her bench, but he didn't. He stayed still, with the girl in his arms, as hypnotised.

_You look so much like..._

Violet didn't make any effort to sit back either. She, too, was motionless, partially laying on the boy and looking attentively at his face. At that moment, she had forgotten all about the Bogeyman, and the snakes, and all. She just thought of one thing:

_He's beautiful. So beautiful..._

Their connection was interrupted by Mike saying:

"Hey, are you alright dude ?"

They looked at him and saw that Charlie had joined them, and Mike was tapping his back. The poor boy was very pale, almost green, and his breathing was irregular.

"Guess I'm gonna puke," he said. "I can't stand speed..."

Violet asked Alex to release her and sat up in front of the sick boy. She put her hand on his chest and said:

"Charlie, listen to me: you will close your eyes, and take deep and slow breathes. Now."

He did, and Violet accompanied each of his expirations with a pressure on the diaphragm. After a few breathes, his cheeks became pink again and he opened his eyes.

"I feel much better. Waw, you're a pro."

"That's nothing. I had some first-aid classes."

"Well... thanks."

It was perhaps the first time Violet was being really nice to someone. Oh yeah, the pipe incident had really shaked her up !

The boat had now arrived on a cooler portion of the river, where it was slow enough to let the kids discover the different hatches on the wall, each one with the name of the room written in neons:

_Caramel Cream_

_Clotted Cream_

_Hair Cream_

"Hair cream ?" asked Violet.

"The finest of the world !" replied Wonka.

_Eternal Ice Cream_

_DreamMaker_

"DreamMaker ?" asked Mike.

"My latest invention. Eat a blue one before going to bed, and you'll have a pleasant dream. Give a red one to your little sister, and she will have a gruesome nightmare !"

"This is sadistic !" said Veruca.

"This is impossible !" said Mike.

"Not quite," whispered Alex in the TV-boy's ear so that no-one else would hear, "it could be done if you put in the right amount of you-know-what."

"Without being spotted by the police control ? Impossible, there can't be so much drug in those candies."

"You're right, although..."

He asked, out loud:

"Mr Wonka, are the DreamMakers available in store ?"

"Not yet, my boy, maybe in a few months."

Satisfied, the Kazakh came back to Mike:

"Convinced, now ?"

The rooms were still passing beside them:

_Hyperelastic Gums _(Violet found this fascinating)

_Chocolate Building Materials_

"What's that ?" asked Charlie.

"Bricks, cement, substructures, everything that makes a building made in chocolate !"

"Is that what you used for Prince Pondicherry ?"

"Exactly. I'm impressed that you know this story."

In fact, Wonka was more worried than impressed. This boy, despite his innocent attitude, knew many things about him. Too many to be really innocent. Better keep him at sight. Other rooms, again and again:

_Mixers Storage_

_Baking Whips Storage_

_Children's Whips Storage_

"Children's whips ?" screamed Mike. "What the Hell is..."

"Oh, look !" interrupted Wonka. He was pointing at another room and screaming:

"Look over there ! Over there ! This is the most important room of all, my dear children ! We're going to visit it now !"

The children, including Mike, completely forgot the whips storage and looked at this so important room. The hatch was larger than the other rooms, and it was mentioned in blue letters:

_Inventing Room_

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What is the special ingredient in the Wonka candies ? Why dosnakes appear in the Factory ?Where does Aleksey hold his superpowers and knowledges from ? And why did he kill that man, in New-York ? Who is he, exactly ? Where had Mrs Beauregard seen him before ?Answers in the next chapters !

Trivia:

- The Forketongue: well, I don't know if it's the proper word, because in my country we say _Fourchelangue_. It's the language spoken by the reptiles in _Harry Potter_.

- Wonka's drug traffic agenda is inspired by the Joker in Tim Burton's _Batman_. If you've not seen this movie, do it right now, it's really worth watching !

- At this point, you may wonder if it's going to be a Violet/OC... well, it will be, but not quite. I already have plans for those two.Well, you'll see when it comes, but I really tried to get out of Mary Sue because I made a test, and according to this test, a character that reaches over 70 points is a Mary Sue... Alex reached 94 points ! I didn't make him powerful and talented especially for this story, you know, I tried to keep him true to the original fiction he's from. So, even if it may become Sueish against my will, I just hope it will be still interesting enough to please you !


	10. Get Rid Of The Girls

There's nowhere to see where we are rowing... well, sorry to have left you on the boat so long ! We are now entering the Inventing Room, where some nasty little secrets will be revealed, some romance will be in the air, and Wonka will continue his sinister plan ! And this is the last chapter to follow the movie. After, everything will go wrong ! I'd like to thank Belle07 for bringing back to me the memory of the Mad Hatter, that great freak among the freaks ! Now, let's rock'n roll !

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_Outside the Factory_

Mr Teavee had nothing to do. Nothing but waiting for his son to come back. If he ever came back. Come on, why was he worrying so much ? Mike was intelligent and responsible, after all. Yes, but he was still a child. Only a child, in that giant factory, without parents to care for him. His only company was five other children as defenceless as he was, and a guy who looked like Alice Cooper's hidden brother. So, yes, he had reasons to worry. Behind him, the other parents were gathered around a table, playing poker. But not him. He wasn't in the mood to play. He was sitting at the bar, drinking Red Bull cans over cans. Feeling concerned, the barman approached him:

"Sir, you shouldn't drink too much of this. It's not pretty good for the health."

The man looked at him, and the barman realized it was maybe too late: behind his oversized glasses, Mr Teavee's eyes were already turning red, and his hands were trembling. He opened his trembling mouth and said in a maniach voice:

"My son's in there, alone, with the other children and the Mad Hatter. Seriously, young man, I don't care much about my health right now."

"I understand, you're a concerned parent. You know, I'm only nineteen, and when I left Cherbourg to come working here in England, nothing could comfort my mother. She was sure I'd become a punk, dye my hair green, wear a nailed jacket and scream _Anarchy in the UK !_ But, nothing happened this way, and today, I'm just a normal guy doing a normal job. It's normal to worry about your kid, sir, but don't let this fear get you. I'm sure he's doing just fine, right now."

"Maybe, but suppositions never did me any good. I need to be sure."

"Just try to relax yourself. Do you want to watch TV ?"

"Have you got an American channel ?"

"Sure."

The young man went to the large TV and turned it on an American channel.

"Okay, boy," said Mr Teavee, "this is my favorite program."

The program was a weekly documentary dealing with secret investigations, sects or other taboo topics in a very serious and instructive way. Mr Teavee never missed it, being the hardcore teacher he was:

_"Today, our guest will be Captain Hartigan Smith, a Californian Police Officer, who will guide our investigation: The Snake, urban legend or reality ? Captain Smith, welcome."_

_"Thanks."_

_"So, you've been a Police Officer in Cooper Riverside, a town situated roughly two hours away from Los Angeles, since 1992."_

_"Yes, and I have to confess that the work was slightly boring. I mean, the town was not that large, and the only criminality we had was school bullying and a few gangs, here and there.You'll tell me, there were stillthe gangs, but the thing isthat they all lived in a district called Old Town, the former town center, which was more or less abandoned to them, so criminality was concentrated in a very small area, making our job very easy."_

_"Until..."_

_"Two years ago, in May, we discovered a strange place that looked like the headquarter of some kind of sect, but we never knew what it really was, because all the people in there were dead. And it was only the beginning of a serie of murders that made over fifty victims in only three months. The killer has never been arrested, and his real identity remains a complete mystery."_

_"The famous Snake."_

_"Exactly, the Snake, that's how he called himself. According to our witnesses, he defined himself as a Serpentiform Human, which means a human who has the instinct and the survival abilities of a snake, all while keeping his human body and intelligence."_

_"Sounds hard to believe."_

_"I don't believe it myself. It is also interesting to notice that the victims weren't all innocent. The vast majority of his victims were reported as having violent, sadistic, or rapist tendencies. He is classified by our experts as a psychotic vigilante with personality disorder. A crazy and dangerous bastard, in common words. The ordeal went on for three months, and then, nothing. He disappeared by himself. One week later, a murder occured in New York, and the killer was reported as having the same look as the Snake, but we never caught him. Since then, we never heard about him anymore."_

_"So, you think he would still be dangerous today, even with an innocent person ?"_

_"I do. People like him are impredictible. I'd especially recommand not to let children around him."_

_"Why ?"_

_"Throughout his... career, the Snake was reported as having a certain closeness with children. His indics, his friends, were mostly children. There is even the serious possibility that he is a child himself. Or at least, a young teenager."_

_"Did he kill children ?"_

_"His youngest victims were sixteen years old: Nathaniel Finnerty, a violent boy suspected of a rape attempt. His body has never been found, but according to our experts, he's been melted down with a powerful acid, in a bathtub. The other one was a popular student, Steven Delcourt, who was seemingly innocent. He's been poisoned and buried in a forest. The Snake has always shown a certain intelligence in his crimes, always destroying as many proofs as he could, even if it was a noisy spree killing. He acts with cold blood and method, so we can conclude in a total lack of compassion. That's why leaving him beside children is potentially dangerous."_

At this moment, Mrs Beauregard arrived and sat beside Mr Teavee. She looked as worried as he was.

"What are you watching ?" she asked.

"A documentary about a famous serial-killer."

"Sounds quite appropriate when we all imagine the worst about our children."

_"You said we should take care of him," asked the reporter, "but is there a way to detect him ?"_

_Captain Smith took a piece of paper out of his pocket and said:_

_"He often left a symbol behind him, as some kind of signature. I've copied it for you."_

_The symbol on the paper was a red triangle into a red circle. And in the middle of that triangle, a black figure representing a snake._

"That's strange," said Mrs Beauregard, "I've already seen that symbol. Do you remember the dirty joke that made us awake in the same bed, this morning ?"

"Yes, I remember, although I'd rather forget it."

"Me too, but it's not the question. During breakfast, we received a card from the joker. The card was signed with that symbol."

"You mean that the Snake could be here among us ? I don't think we should get so paranoid, we're already worrying enough about the Factory."

"I guess so, but still..."

_"But," asked the reporter on TV, "does he have a particular outfit that makes him recognizable ?"_

_"Well, one of our witnesses is a nine-years old girl who claims to have met the Snake several times. She made a drawing, it's not very accurate but it gives an idea about his look. I'll show you..."_

_Hartigan took another piece of paper and unfolded it in front of the camera. The character was rather well drawn for a child._

Mr Teavee and Mrs Beauregard's face turned pale white, and their eyes widened in horror. Could it be ?

_The Snake was drawn on the picture as a tall and slim man, with hair pulled backwards and wearing a black coat, black gloves, and black boots with spurs._

Just like Aleksey.

_Inside the Factory_

"This is the most important room of all the facility !" declared Wonka when he entered the Inventing Room.

The children followed him and looked in awe at the huge laboratory: the circular room was almost as large as the Chocolate Room, the ceiling and the walls were black while the floor was blue. There were some huge colorful and noisy machines that seemed to mix the ingredients in oversized bowls connected to each others by pipes that were large enough to be used as swimming pool chutes. Between those machines there were blue boards full of chemicals, candy prototypes and laboratory equipments.

"This room is where I create, test, and elaborate all of my most secret recipes. Some of the prototypes you will see in this room are working and ready for mass produce, others are still in making and therefor might have some unstable reactions. That's why no touching or tasting is allowed without my permission."

_That's it, _thought Mike,_ let's drug ourselves with your permission ! _He and Aleksey knew about the secret, the two girls didn't and therefor, thought they could keep eating candy while staying on their guards. And Charlie seemed to have a blind trust in the chocolatier. The fan's syndrom. Poor boy...

"And, don't forget that everything you'll see in this room is my exclusive property, so don't tell anyone about it."

_"I don't think you'll have the occasion, anyway."_

Wonka was confident in the success of this operation. It had all been planned to get the children one by one in a way that made the chocolatier innocent. _Augustus had an accident ? It's his fault, I told him not to touch my river !_ His first plan was to use force and get them all in a row, but he quickly concluded that it was a bad idea. Because children were full of resources, and with enough adrenaline in their brain, their strong survival instinct would take over them and make them very hard to catch. Even harder than adults ! Children are smarter and stronger than the adults tend to think, and although he'd never admit it, Wonka was a bit worried by them. That's why he'd use the smartest methods he could to get them: one by one, and never directly. He had already noticed that they were all extremely cautious since Augustus' accident, except Charlie who was pretty naive (despite the fact that he knew too many things), and they were trying to form some kind of group to watch over each others. Fine ! He had foreseen that and he knew how to handle the situation. He would attack the cement of their group: the girls. At their age, it was all about girls. Children could reveal themselves exceptionally tough when their own survival was at stake, but boys had something more: they were told everywhere, through TV, comic-books, kids' novels and all, that boys were supposed to rescue the damzel in distress to become heroes. As a result of this brain conditioning, their hormones would take over them and they could become ten times more courageous and vigilant when there were girls around they felt the need to protect. That's the way boys thought, and it could make them dangerous. That was Wonka's plan: first, get rid of the girls, slowly, smoothly, by letting them have an "accident", and the boys will be completely disoriented, helpless, and therefor easy to catch. Okay, time to see if all of this will work. Let's boogie !

"Now, children, walk around and have a look at all the wonders of this room, but remember: don't touch anything unless you're invited to !"

The children immediately spread up to explore the giant lab and its magnificient inventions. Wonka watched Violet and Mike running to the GobStoppers pool, while Veruca was observing a rack of various musical instruments. The candymaker approached her and asked:

"Do you like those ?"

"What are they ?" she asked.

"Toy instruments. To teach music to kids in a cheap and secure way. I'll show you."

He picked up a bright red electrical guitar and explained:

"This has the size of a real guitar, but it's made of fruit-flavored cristallized sugar, the same I use for the GobStoppers. It's colorful, lickable, and unbreakable. And the best is that you don't even need wires and loudspeakers to play it."

"You mean, it can be played ?"

"Sure. Listen."

Willy Wonka put his gloved hands on the ropes of the candy guitar and, slowly, began to play a sinister melody Veruca didn't know, which was Marilyn Manson's _Sweet Dreams_. He was interrupted by a sound of broken glass coming from another part of the room.

"What's going on ?" he asked. He put the guitar back on the rack and told Veruca:

"Try them if you want, they're all working. I have to watch over your little friends."

Then, he walked away, searching for the broken glass. He soon found Charlie standing near a board full of test tubes, with one of the tubes broken on the floor. The clear liquid it contained was attacking the floor, producing a discreet frying sound.

"Charlie ! I told you not to touch anything !"

"I'm sorry, Mr Wonka, it wasn't my fault."

"What do you mean ?"

"I was watching, and I saw a snake crawling on the board. I was surprised, so I stepped backwards and accidently hit this tube."

"A snake ? Nonsense, there's no snake here !"

_"At least, not at this level, and he couldn't do all the way up by himself."_

"Anyway, it's not that important. Just be careful from now, okay little boy ?"

Charlie thanked him and went to explore another part of the lab. He found Veruca holding a blue violin and licking it with a certain pleasure. He decided he'd better follow Alex's advices and try again:

"What are you doing ?" he asked.

She stopped licking and smiled at him. _She smiled ?_ Yes, that's what she did. After all, her money or family pride would be useless if she got in trouble in that factory, so she'd better stop snubbing the others. Until the Tour's over, of course.

"It tastes like ice mint," she said. "You want to try ?"

"Sure..."

He gingerly took the blue violin and took a long lick. It tasted really good. The boy suddenly blushed red bright when he told himself he had maybe licked the same part as _she_ did... embarrassed, he gave her back the violin. She smiled again, put the instrument on her shoulder, and rested her chin on it. She had a bow in the other hand.

"The bow is made of frozen chocolate," she said. "That's crazy what he can do with candy."

"You're gonna play it ?"

"I'll try."

Charlie stayed beside her, and listened to her. The music began slow and creepy, then became faster and louder, to reach a great, sad and beautiful finale. She played divinely well.

"That's... magic," whispered Charlie. He was almost speechless.

"Thanks. It's my favorite play, it's called _The Cat Woman_."

They stopped speaking. Both of them. They just stayed here, awkwardly staring at each others. It was as if they had both lost their ability to think. None of them had the idea to qualify this a "crush", but they knew, that the moment this poor street boy and this scorning rich girl were sharing was intense...

Meanwhile, Violet, Mike and Aleksey were looking into a pool of fizzy water, where two Oompa Loompas were swimming and manipulating some small red orbs. Violet turned her head towards Willy Wonka to call him, and Mike took profit of this moment to sneak away.

"Mr Wonka," she said, "what is that ?"

"Oh, excellent," he said while arriving, "let me show you."

As he approached, an Oompa Loompa jumped out of the pool and gave him one of the red orbs. The chocolatier held it in front of the children and said:

"This is an Everlasting GobStopper. Made for children with little pocket money. You can suck it and suck it, it will never get smaller. And it tastes just great."

"It's like chewing gum ?"

Wonka took a deep breath to ease the rage. This little blond rat was so annoying with her horribly gross chewing gums ! He would have a great moment punishing her, he would take all his time...

"No," he just said, "chewing gum is meant to be chewed. If you tried to chew one of those, you would break all of your little teeth. Okay, let's see something else."

And while he was explaining the use of a candy called Hair Toffee, Mike arrived behind Aleksey and discreetly tapped on his shoulder.

"What ?" whispered the biker very lowly.

"I think you should come. I found something interesting."

Alex made sure that no-one was paying attention to him and followed the genius to a machine located quite far from the rest of the group.

"You detect problems with your senses," said Mike. "I don't know how you do that, but you do. I tried to do the same by using my own gift: my overwhelming sense of logic. And look at what I found."

They stopped in front of the machine and Mike let Alex read what was written on it: _Nevermelting Chocolate Ice Cream_.

"Another of his miracles," he commented.

Mike smiled at him:

"I'll show you the miracle."

And on these words, the TV-boy opened a protective cover on the side of the machine, revealing a large metallic bottle bearing the inscription: _Liquid Nitrogen. Chemical Hazard. Do Not Manipulate Without Protection ! _

"I see..."

"It's not all. Look at this one."

Mike brought the Hell's to another machine with the inscription: _Explosive Candy_.

"Let me guess..." Alex said.

The little genius opened the protective cover. There were several grey bricks of what looked like modelling clay, with the word _SemTex_ printed on.

"I thought so..."

"So it's not only drugs," said Mike, "he also uses some deadly materials in his candy."

The young boy suddenly felt his super-heroism coming back like a tidal wave. It was no more about protecting (Violet) his comrades against a killer, nor against a mad candyman, it was about saving the whole world from a conspiracy !

"Alex, those candies will get to mass produce soon ! We've got to prevent it from happening !"

"Wow, chill out, Superman. You won't make anything against such a huge thing on your own, no matter how intelligent you are. You're just a kid, and Wonka is very powerful."

"But I won't be alone. You're with me, right ?"

"Are you kidding ? I'm not here to play the super-hero."

"It's not your _job_, right ? It's not why Mr Salt paid you, right ?"

Alex froze, and his eyes grew just a little bit wider. Mike knew he had touched a sensitive spot.

"You know about that ?"

"I know he paid you and gave you a fake ticket. Why did he do that ? What are you supposed to do here ?"

"Listen, I can't tell anything unless..."

They were interrupted by the strong whistling of a steam shoot, followed by the loud purring of an engine. They looked at the other side of the room to see the other children and the chocolatier gathered around a circular machine that seemed to mix different sorts of liquids. Wonka was talking to the kids while showing them a stick of chewing gum. With horror, they saw Violet pick up the gum and put it in her mouth. Both Alex and Mike remembered Augustus' fate. They didn't think twice: they ran towards her.

Mike arrived first. He grabbed the little girl by the arm and spoke in a very fast panicked tone:

"Violet, what are you doing ? This gum may be dangerous !"

The girl broke free from his grip and said:

"Leave me alone, Mike. I'm not a baby, I know what I'm doing."

Alex arrived and stood beside Violet, seeming as worried as Mike was. The genius gave the Hell's a dark glance. _Don't even think about it, _he thought_. I'll take care of her, she doesn't need some mafious like you !_

The truth was that Mike wasn't mad at Alex for those fake ticket and mysterious job stories. He was just jealous. Horribly jealous. He had seen what happened in the boat, and he couldn't bear it. He would do everything to prove that he was better than this Kazakh boy, so that Violet would be his girlfriend. Girlfriend ? Yes, girlfriend. Mike didn't need to hide it to himself any longer: he was in love with Violet, and he didn't know how to handle this powerful feeling.

"Boys," said Violet, seemingly amused, "it's okay ! You worry too much, that gum is not dangerous. And it's damn excellent !"

"Thanks," said Wonka.

"Wait a minute," said Veruca, "what's happening to her nose ?"

"What ?"

"It's turning blue !" screamed Mike.

Violet let out a nervous, scared giggle and said: "You must be joking... if it's a joke, it's not funny !"

"Violet," said Charlie, "you're turning violet !"

"But... but how could it..." the poor girl was getting panicked.

Aleksey put a hand on her shoulder and the other on her stomach, and Mike could swear he had seen something small sliding from the boy's sleeve to the girl's stomach pocket.

"Violet," the Kazakh said, "you must spit out that thing ! Now !"

"What ? Why ? What's happening ? Guys, it's not funny !"

She was so panicked that she didn't spit out the gum. It was as if panick had made her lose the ability to react. She was just working by reflexes. And her reflexes of gum chewer made her keep the cursed gum in her mouth and chew it faster and faster. She was now all violet, and she started swelling up like a balloon. In a matter of seconds, she had become a big blue ball with two feet, two hands and a head poking out of it. She screamed:

"Help ! What's going on ?"

"I am really sorry," said Wonka, "I tried to warn you, but this gum has a big default. I tried it on a dozen of Oompa Loompas, and they all turned to giant blueberries, like you."

"Oh no... what are we gonna do ?"

"I don't know... let's bring you to the juice room !"

"The juice room ?" shouted Mike. "What are they gonna do to her ?"

"They will press her. Like a pimple. We need to take all the juice out before she explodes. Where are my Oompa Loompas ?"

In response, a music started coming out of nowhere, a hip-hop play. Then a group of Oompa Loompas arrived in a choregraphic manner, and started dancing around the poor girl, bouncing on her ignoring her shrieks, and singing:

_Listen close and listen hard,  
To the tale of Violet Beauregarde.  
This dreadful girl, she sees no wrong,  
In chewing, chewing, chewing, chewing, chewing, chewing, all day long.  
Chewing, chewing all day long!  
Chewing, chewing all day long!  
Chewing, chewing all day long!_

And, under the other children's fascinated (not to say hypnotized) look, the blueberry girl was rolled out of the room.

"Well," said Wonka when they disappeared, "this is quite sad. But don't worry, she will be just fine ! Shall we go on with the Tour ?"

The children followed, although they were not exactly in the mood to see other candies. Their worriness about the disappearance of their two comrades, their fear towards this quirky factory, were added with a feeling of defeat. They had failed to look upon each others, and Violet had disappeared by their fault. Even Charlie, although he didn't have a clue on what was going on, began to have a creepy feeling running up his spine, and wished Grandpa Joe were here with him.

As Wonka turned to the children to see if they were following him, his eyes met Aleksey's eyes. For a second, they stared intensely at each other, so intensely that they seemed to be communicating via telepathy.

_Two down, four to go. _Thought Wonka_. No-one will escape me. I have you all in my web, you scorny greedy arrogant brats, and you can't do anything against that. Scream for your parents, because you'll never see them again..._

_It won't happen, _thought Aleksey_. I won't let you accomplish your dark project. This is my job, and I can do it, because you don't know who I really am. You really, really don't know..._

_Meanwhile, outside the Factory..._

"We have a problem !" screamed Mr Teavee as he and Mrs Beauregard joined the rest of the group. Another man had joined them, a skinny dark-haired man who claimed to be Charlie's father.

"What's going on ?" asked this guy.

"Well," began Stella, "it seems that... ttttherrrrres a..."

Her jaw was trembling too much to speak. Finally, Mr Teavee decided to speak for her:

"We were watching a documentary on TV, and we recognized him. Aleksey. He's a serial killer who escaped the police two years ago, in California."

"What ?" shrieked Mrs Gloop. "Are you sure about that ? If it's a joke, it's not..."

"I am sure, M'dam. I don't know if Wonka and his factory are really dangerous, but there's one thing sure, now: we left our children alone with a murderer."

At this new, all the parents had their face grow white and their eyes poke out of their skull. They were all on the edge of a heart attack at the idea of their children so close to the greatest of dangers: a maniac.

All but Mr Salt, who was as calm as still water.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Are the children safe with a murderer among them ? What is Aleksey doing in the Factory ? What did he put in Violet's pocket ? ALL the answers in the next chapter !

Trivia: the piece of violin Veruca plays is Catwoman's theme, performed by Danny Elfman for the movie _Batman Returns_.


	11. Tic Tac Toe

Hi, sorry to have made you wait so long ! I was changing my Internet server, so it was quite a mess the last weeks. Anyway, now I'm back and fully operational, so let's enjoy the next chapter. As I promised, this chapter is the beginning of the "freewheel" part of the story, for I won't follow the movie's line anymore and turn it to a survival-horror. Some anguish in this chapter, and more madness to come from Willy Wonka. I also added a bit of tenderness, to relieve some stress !

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Will Violet remain a blueberry forever ?" asked Veruca.

"Yes," replied the candymaker. "Or no. Maybe. I don't know."

An evasive response... okay, no use to try again, he clearly didn't want to talk about that. They had left the Inventing Room to arrive in a large white hallway that seemed to have no end. They were all feeling more and more nervous. They felt that the issue of the Tour was close, and they dreaded what would happen then.

"What is exactly that _special prize_ ?" asked Mike, suspicious.

"The best kind of prize is a surprise !" replied Wonka, cheerfully. "More exactly, it's something you'll never dare to imagine."

This didn't reassure them at all, oddly...

"Mr Wonka," asked Charlie, "do you remember the first candy you ate ?"

The chocolatier stopped, and his eyes seemed to look at nowhere. A rictus of pain drew on his lips, and he murmured an absent-minded "No..."

But in reality, he remembered this moment perfectly well. That was one of those events that changes your life forever. Not eating the candy, but what ensued:

_"Candy !" screamed Dr Wilbur Wonka as he grabbed his son by the top of this torture device he wore around his head and that was supposed to be braces. They were in the dentist's office, and Dr Wonka had just finished cleaning his instruments when his son entered and he discovered this..._

_"I know you ate candy ! I can smell it. What did I tell you about candy, Willy ?"_

_"I didn't eat candy !"_

_"Don't lie to me, my son !"_

_On these words, the Doctor tightened his grip and smashed the boy's head against the operation bench. Little Willy screamed in pain and fear, but his father ignored it and continued:_

_"Candy is a waste of time !"_

_And he smashed again._

_"It rots the teeth..."_

_He smashed again._

_"And makes children fat and greedy !"_

_He smashed one last time and released the boy._

_"Children," he murmured, "I hate children. They're no more than... rats."_

_He turned back, as if he was about to walk away, but he didn't. He just stayed here and murmured horrible things about children and how he hated them:_

_"All are little rats, unable to think by their own, unable to stay calm more than two seconds, always putting their greedy little hands on everything and sticking their tongue at the respectable adults. Worse, you try to scold them, and they hide behind Mommy, screaming against the nasty man, and suddenly, this little vermin becomes untouchable ! How in the world could one respect and love such despicable creatures ?"_

_While he was talking, Willy slowly stood on his feet and stared at his father's back, without expression on his face, nor in his eyes. He just thought that the Doctor could hate children, because children hated him. And Willy hated him even more. At this time, he didn't think of the consequences of his act, he just felt the urge to do it. He looked at the instruments displayed beside the operation bench, and picked up a pair of large scissors. Large enough. And sharp enough._

"Mr Wonka ? Mr Wonka ? Are you okay ?"

Wonka suddenly came back to the factory when he heard Charlie calling him. Keeping his dull eyes, he said in a mechanic tone:

"Please excuse me, I was having a flashback..."

"Do these..." asked Veruca, "do these flashbacks occur often ?"

"Increasingly... today..."

Then the chocolatier shook his head and returned to his "normal" aspect.

"Anyway, let's move, we have a Tour to finish ! Oh, that's the room I wanted to show you !"

The children looked at the circular metallic door that carried the mention _Nut-Sorting Room_. Well, this one doesn't sound so bad, does he ?

"Oh, that's a good thing," said Veruca in her aristocratic tone. She seemed to have completely forgotten where she was, now that she was talking about familiar subjects. "You see, my father is in the nut business himself, Mr Wonka, and..."

"Then you should like this room, little girl. Come in !"

He opened the door and entered the room, followed by the children. They arrived on a small bridge overhanging a quite unusual facility: the room was circular, smaller than the inventing room, and the walls were painted light blue. The floor was painted blue and white, in a double helix pattern that finished with a two-meters large hole in the middle of the room. It looked like a whirlpool. All around the room, against the walls, there were one hundred of small seats, with in front of each a tube that popped from the ceiling and another that popped from the ground. And on each of these seats, there was a...

"Squirrels !" screamed Veruca, filled with wonder.

She loved squirrels. She had always dreamt to have one, and here there were one hundred ! She was so enthusiastic at the sight of these cute rodents that her vigilance fell at zero. After all, squirrels can't be nasty and dangerous, can they ? She observed them working: a nut would come from the ceiling pipe, the squirrel would tap it with its tiny paw, then take the shell off with its teeth, and put the shelled nut in the ground pipe that would go... God knows where.

"Why squirrels ?" asked Mike. "Why not Oompa Loompas ?"

"Because squirrels are the only ones who can shell a nut without damaging it. Look how meticulous they are ! They tap the nuts with their paws to check if they're not rotten. Watch here ! This one seems to have found a rotten nut !"

They watched the squirrel in question tapping the nut attentively, and tossing it behind him. The rotten nut rolled to the center of the room and disappeared in the hole.

"You see, there's no mistake possible. Once the rotten nut is detected, it's immediately thrown down the garbage chute !"

_Waw_, thought Veruca. These squirrels were exceptionally well trained. They were unique. She had to have one ! She looked at Willy Wonka and offered him her silliest smile.

"Mr Wonka," she said, "I want a squirrel ! A trained squirrel like yours ! My father will pay you after the Tour !"

"But they're not for sale. You can't have one."

The silly smile disappeared immediately, replaced by an expression of profound anger and indignation. He had said no ! No-one could say no to her, not even a crazy candyman ! And she would show him !

"Fine," she screamed, "then I'll get one myself !"

And on these words, she passed under the protection barrier and used the narrow ladder to descend to the squirrels' level. The noise of their work stopped abruptly. Two hundred eyes stared at the intruder, waiting for the right moment to attack. Over them, Wonka and the three boys were watching the scene. The children were tensed by the suspense. What would happen to her ? They didn't know, but they just hoped it would end up well. But considering what had happened to Augustus and Violet, there were little chance for Veruca to remain safe. The chocolatier just watched the scene, with this mysterious smile on his face. The boys knew he should've done something, but at this point, they didn't even mind his attitude. They understood that he was insane, that was all. Mike bent his head back to whisper to Alex who was behind:

"Maybe we should do something, no ?"

"Just wait and see," replied the Kazakh. "Beside, I think it's fair for this brat to be handled a little... roughly."

Mike didn't see anything to answer. What Aleksey said was cruel, but fair.

Below, Veruca approached a squirrel, smiled at it, and declared:

"You're the one I want !"

She raised her arms, trying to catch the rodent, but it ran free and triggered an incredible mess: all the squirrels of the room got panicked and started running around, squeaking and gathering around the little girl's feet. Veruca was very worried: squirrels don't behave like that, normally. Something was wrong, but she didn't know what she had done to trigger this, neither how to stop it. It really scared her, because it was actually the first time a situation ran out of her control. She was used to control everything, from her servant's work to her father's mood, but here, it was the anarchy, a situation that she couldn't bear with. A squirrel jumped on her skirt, and she pushed it away in a defensive reflex. In her head, she could see the word DANGER flickering in large red letters, she could hear the voices of Augustus and Violet saying:

_"You see, you failed too. Whatever we try, he always finds a way to catch us by surprise. At this rythm, we'll never make it out alive..."_

No ! It couldn't end like that ! It had to be a bad dream, how could it happen to _her_ ? Yes, it _was_ a bad dream, because in reality, her father would never have left her, alone and defenceless. Unless... unless he was tired of her endless tantrums and saw here an opportunity to get rid of her. Oh, no, this idea was the climax of horror !

"Mr Wonka," she whined, "what's going on ?"

"Well, those squirrels hate to be disturbed, and they go nuts quite easily."

Another squirrel jumped on the poor girl's skirt, and another one on her torso, and soon, she found herself overwhelmed with rodents. In vain attempts to take them off her, she tripped and fell on her back.

"Mr Wonka !" she yelled. "Make them stop !"

But he didn't answer and once again, the children were hypnotized by the horror happening under their eyes. Twenty-five squirrels went for her right arm and pinned it down. The other arm followed, then the legs, until she was completely paralyzed, her four limbs stretched at max and restrained by the incredible strength of dozens of furious rodents. She felt as if she was bound on a medieval torture table, like the ones she saw in museums. As she tried to chase this gloomy image away, she felt a pressure on her chest and looked to see a squirrel standing on her. The small animal put its front paws on her forehead and tapped three times.

"What are they doing to her ?" asked Charlie. He was horrified by the situation and wanted so bad to help her, but whatever he had in mind, his body just refused to move.

"They check her," replied the chocolatier with glee, "to see if she's not rotten."

The squirrel emitted a small squeak.

"Woops," said Wonka, "looks like she is. She's a bad nut."

"Aren't bad nuts thrown down the garbage chute ?" asked Mike.

"Precisely."

With a perfect timing, the rodents passed under the girl and started rolling her to the big hole, in the center of the room. She screamed, struggled and kicked, but there was nothing to do. She saw the hole approaching like an inevitable fate.

"And the garbage chute," asked Charlie, "where does it lead ?"

"To the furnace, of course !"

Charlie's eyes widened and his face grew white when he imagined this lovely girl being roasted alive.

"We've got to help her !" he shouted.

"Sorry, I'm really not eager to face the wrath of one hundred squirrels. Don't be so sad, boy, you barely knew her anyway..."

Meanwhile, Mike set his hero-mode active and turned round to grab Aleksey by the arm.

"Alex," he screamed, "we must do..."

He stopped abruptly when he realized that there was no-one behind him. He was holding the arm of the black coat, but there was no-one in this coat. The Kazakh had disappeared.

Veruca was now very close to the garbage chute, and she had lost almost all hope. But at the very moment when her feet were right over the hole, a strong cracking was heard and a black leather tail appeared around the girl's ankles and violently pulled her over the top of the chute. It went too fast for the children to realize it: Veruca was about to fall in the chute, and the second after, she was lying safe in the opposite corner of the room, far from the hole, and she had the tail of a long combat whip winded around her ankles. Aleksey was standing right beside her and was holding the handle of the whip. He had no coat on, and his sleeveless top revealed his completely hairless naked arms. On his left shoulder, he had a tatoo representing the now familiar logo of the black snake in the red circle. The Kazakh released the girl and then swung his three meters long whip around, to scare the squirrels away. Meanwhile, Charlie and Mike jumped over the barrier and ran to Veruca. They knelt down in front of the girl and asked her if she was okay. Her eyes had grown twice their size, she was panting like a dog and her hands were trembling heavily. She was in shock. When the boys approached, she hugged them tight, buried her face in their arms, and let all her tears go out. Charlie didn't know what to do to comfort the crying girl, and by instinct, he did what his mother used to do when he felt sad himself: he put a hand on the back of her head and gently caressed her hair. Beside them, the cracking of the whip became unbearable, but it ended when all the squirrels had disappeared through the air vents on the walls.

"You'll take care of her ?" whispered Mike to Charlie.

The boy nodded and Mike got up to approach the Kazakh. Aleksey was kneeling down a few meters away, his whip on the ground beside him. He was exhausted, and his heavy breathings sounded like the siren of an old locomotive. His skin had taken a light red shade, but he did not sweat at all.

"You okay ?" asked Mike.

"Gimme a few seconds..."

The young genius took a look around the room, which had become quite oppressive since the noisy rodents were gone. They were alone, and it was too large, too empty, too silent. Wait a minute... they were alone ? He looked at the bridge where they were a few minutes before, and realized it was true: they were alone, because Wonka had gone. No sign of him anywhere. He'd just vanished.

"Damn !" he said, "he disappeared. Wonka disappeared."

"I thought so," replied Aleksey.

Mike turned round to see that the Kazakh was now standing up, fully rested, and his skin had taken back its original pale complexion. Mike thought that was strange, it was as if he had chilled out. He took back his whip and started to roll it up. Charlie and Veruca joined them. The little girl seemed to feel much better now, although they were all in shock.

"I was waiting for this moment," continued Aleksey as he hung his weapon on his belt, "ever since the beginning of this damn Tour, but I sincerely hoped that it wouldn't happen. Well, it did."

"So it was all a trap," said Mike, "as we suspected. Wonka set this up to get us one by one."

"Wh-wh-why would he do that ?" asked Charlie. "I can't believe that this is happening. He's too nice to be a kidnapper !"

"Deception is always hard to cope, boy," said Alex, "but we have evidences: the candies you tasted were rotten with drugs, and Mike discovered that he makes ice-cream out of dangerous chemicals. We preferred not to tell you to keep you cool, but now, it's sure that we're in danger here. I don't know why the drugs, the traps, and all, I don't know his agenda but I don't want to. I just know he's insane and dangerous."

Charlie searched his pocket and took the razorblade. He examined it and remembered his father's advices.

"We've been warned," he said. "Our parents warned us against him, but we didn't listen. We wanted chocolate too much and we didn't listen."

Mike took his tazer gun and replied:

"Yeah, and now we're in trouble. I thought I could see it coming, but I overestimated myself, this time."

Veruca looked at the boys' weapons and said in a worried tone:

"You mean your parents warned you and gave you a self-defence item ?"

"Well, yeah," replied the genius, "what's the matter ?"

The girl didn't answer. She felt a ball growing in her throat, and the tears were coming back.

"My father did nothing of this !" she cried. "He just let me in, helpless ! I bet he did it on purpose, to get rid of me ! He doesn't love me because I'm a brat !"

Charlie wanted to go comfort her again, but instead, Aleksey put his hands on her shoulders and said:

"Calm down, girl, you're not alone. Your dear father doesn't pay me for nothing."

The crying stopped in an instant.

"What ?" she asked.

"Just, who are you in reality ?" asked Mike.

"Well, I guess the masquerade is over now."

On these words, Alex put his hands on his face and rubbed it for a few seconds. When he stopped and put his hands off, the children couldn't help but stop breathing in astonishment. The make-up was gone. The contacts were gone. He was showing them his real face: he had no eyebrows, no eyelashes, and his eyes were gleaming yellow, with thin vertical pupils. He spoke, and a long, thin and forked tongue popped out of his mouth as he spoke:

"That'sssssssss a good thhhhhing. I wasssss getting tired of thisss make-up."

For a few seconds, none of the children dared to speak, when Mike finally screamed:

"You are the Snake !"

_Meanwhile, in the hotel:_

"I know," declared Mr Salt.

"What ?" asked Mr Teavee.

"I know that the Snake is in there, because I let him in."

"I don't understand."

All the parents were gathered around Mr Salt and listened in awe:

"You know that I run an important business, which benefits reach several millions per years. And today, it is very important for a successful businessman like me to have a few friends from the NORAs."

"The NORAs ?"

"The Non-Officially Recognized Activities. I guess you know what I mean."

"The mafia ?"

"In simple words, yes. It's not very honest, but it's the only way to make business quietly, today. Anyway, the people of this milieu use to have their dirty work done by bounty hunters, and more than once they offered to find me one if needed. Because I try to be as honest as possible, I declined the offer, but here came this Golden Ticket contest. When I found the Ticket for Veruca, I discovered the rules of this Tour, especially the one that didn't allow any adult to come inside the Factory. You know what happened..."

"Of course," replied Mrs Beauregard, "your parental instinct detected the potential danger of the situation..."

"That's it. And as giving her a self-defence item wouldn't be enough to reassure me, I decided to call back my friends in Eastern Europe and asked for a competent person who would be young enough to enter the Factory. And they found me the best of the best: the Snake, from Kazakhstan, who was at only thirteen years old better than older and more experienced bounty hunters. Only after I discovered that he was the same guy who, two years ago, committed all these murders in California, but my friends assured me that he was reliable, so I kept him."

"So you mean that..."

"I love my daughter, and I wanted the best for her safety. That's why I hired this bounty hunter to assure her personal protection during this Tour."

_Meanwhile, in the Nut-Sorting Room:_

Aleksey had just finished his speech, like Mr Salt.

"So," asked Veruca, "you were hired as my... bodyguard ?"

"In short, yes. My mission was purely and simply to make sure that you'd finish the Tour and go back to your father safe and harmless. For a payment of eighty thousands Sterling pounds, I thought it was a fair trade for an easy job. And now, here we are in that..."

Veruca didn't listen to the end, for she was overwhelmed with a feeling of joy that seemed quite odd in their situation: Daddy loved her ! And this was the proof, he was so worried about her safety that he didn't hesitate to hire one of these mercenaries or whatever they call themselves, to protect her ! Maybe she didn't deserve to have parents like that... if she made it out alive, the first thing she'd do would be to ask for their forgiveness, and never throw a tantrum again ! Promised !

Mike was staring at the Snake, his inhuman yellow eyes, his reptile tongue... it was surrealistic.

"So," he asked, "all those stories I heard about the Serpentiform Human... it was all true ?"

"Yeah. Half a human, half a snake, better than both species. At least, that's how I was designed."

"Designed ?"

"Don't ask. You wouldn't understand, it's just too weird."

"It doesn't make sense. You can't be a bounty hunter so young ! You're only thirteen !"

"Mike, have you ever been to Russia ? Have you ever been to Chechnya, or Kazakhstan ? Because I lived in all those countries, countries where law is a joke. Countries where the only way out of misery is to work for the mafia, even if you're very young. It's a need of money that made me become a bounty hunter."

As he said these words, he could hear a voice deep inside his head screaming: _Liar ! Liar !_ Well, he'd better tell lies, because the reality was worse, even worse.

"But," asked Mike, "what about those murders in California ? It was you, you can't deny that, I recognized you as soon as I saw those eyes. So why ?"

The Snake grimaced and said:

"I prefer not to talk about that. This story belongs to the past."

"Let's go," whined Veruca. "I have enough of this. Snake, do your job and bring me back home."

"I'm afraid it won't be so easy, my dear."

"Why ?"

"The traps. Ever wondered why Wonka left us alone like that ? No ? Okay: I think he doesn't dare to catch us all by force, that's why he set up all those traps. As long as we were not reacting, when Augustus and Violet disappeared, he could still pretend that the Tour was going normal. He thought he was controlling us, but when we finally reacted to save Veruca, we showed him that we discovered his plan, that's why he disappeared: because the whole building is gigantic, labyrinthic, and certainly full of vicious traps, and he knows we can't find the way out by ourselves. He got us, guys. We are in his web."

It's at this very moment that they all began to understand the horror and despair of their situation: they were maybe all warned. They were maybe armed to defend themselves. One was maybe the heir of a huge corporation, one was maybe a mastermind, or one was maybe a cold-blooded mercenary who's used to fighting and danger. But they were all children. They were only four children alone in an infernal factory controlled by a sadistic madman. Even the Snake, in the depth of his reptilian predator's instinct, could sense the fear.

"So what are we gonna do ?" asked Charlie.

"My dear boy, the first thing to do when a contract doesn't occur as planned is..."

Alex took a small black object from his belt. A cell phone.

"To refer to the hierarchy," he concluded.

He dialed a number, and a few seconds passed before his correspondent answered:

"Mr Salt, here..."

"This is Snake."

He heard several worried voices. The other parents, of course. Then, Mr Salt replied:

"Snake, you're on loudspeaker now, everyone can hear you. What's happening ?"

"This Tour was all a trap ! He tried to kidnap us. We managed to escape him, but now we're trapped in the middle of this Factory."

"How's my daughter doing ?"

The poor man sounded panicked.

"Fine. She's safe. But we have two casualties."

"Excuse me ?"

"Augustus Gloop and Violet Beauregard. They've been abducted and we have no clue on where they are."

He heard the two mothers yelling their children's name behind, and Mr Salt asked:

"Do you think they could be... dead ?"

This question was hard to answer, but he had to. And he had to tell what he really thought, from his point of view of professional. He took a deep breath and said:

"Most probably."

The screams, again. Then, he heard a sobbing female voice talking to him:

"Snake, this is Violet's mother. Do you think she still has a chance ?"

"Honestly, yes. But don't count too much on it."

"Can you find her ?"

"I'd try."

Mr Salt took back the phone:

"Snake, I triple the price if you take our children safely out of that building."

"Thanks, I will do it."

"And if you find the two missing children, I..."

"I'll do this for free, Mr Salt."

"Well, thank you. And I do mean it, Snake. Can I talk to her ?"

"Of course."

Aleksey handed the phone to Veruca. She took it in her still trembling hand.

"Daddy ?... Yes, I'm fine. Daddy, I'm so sorry, it's all my... Okay... Oh, Daddy, I'm so scared ! I wanna go back home, hide under a blanket, drink hot tea and watch cartoons. And I miss you so much... Yes, I will. I love you, Daddy."

She then passed the phone to Charlie to let him talk with his father, and approached Aleksey:

"Daddy said I should trust you, because you'll do everything for me. That's right ?"

The Snake looked at her and noticed that her eyes were red and wet, and she was sniffing heavily. The edge of tears. They were all in that status, except him, of course, because snakes don't cry. Just for this, he wanted so bad to be human again. But he couldn't. A curse is a curse. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, and said:

"You're my little cash box, now. There's nothing I wouldn't do to protect two hundred thousand pounds."

She greeted this remark with a shy smile. The joke had taken off some of her stress.

"It's not exactly what I wanted to hear, but... thanks, anyway."

He gingerly tapped her shoulder, and walked away. He climbed on the bridge, and slipped his coat back on. Then, he took a cigarillo from his pocket and started smoking. Smoking was like his alternative to crying. Takes off the tension and keeps his mind cool as water. As far as he remembered, he's been smoking ever since he became... what he was.

Meanwhile, Charlie and Veruca were still in the middle of the room. The boy approached the girl, and she noticed he was really crying.

"You think we can make it out ?" he asked.

"Snake seems to know what he's doing. He will find us a way out."

"Maybe, but... how could it go wrong like that ?"

And there, a miracle happened: Charlie didn't expect it at all, but Veruca gave him a hug. First surprised, he let himself go, buried his face in her fur coat and smelled her sweet perfume. An immense feeling of peace settled in his heart. Veruca also enjoyed it, because it gave her some importance: as the oldest, she was like their big sister, and it was her duty to comfort them if they felt bad. Especially Charlie, for he was so sweet, and shy, the exact opposite of her. And this attracted her. She was discovering the joy of helping others. Veruca the Brat was officially dead. That's crazy how people can change after a near-death experience.

After a few seconds, they separated and headed to the bridge. They climbed the ladder and joined the rest of the group.

"We'd better leave this room," said Veruca, "it makes me nervous."

And as they headed to the white hallway, the young girl realized she didn't like nuts and squirrels as much as she used to...

Meanwhile, in a further part of the Factory, Willy Wonka was standing still in the middle of his Great Glass Elevator, staring absent-mindedly at the dim lights of the elevator pit that reflected on his pale, expressionless face that evoked a wax doll. From time to time, a red neon sign would pop up in front of him, indicating the floor he was passing through: _Basement 5_... _Basement 6_...

The kids had got him. He didn't expect them to react so quickly. It was all the falt of this rich brat... he should have expected from someone so important to bring in a bodyguard, but no. This... Aleksey was suspect, since the beginning, but he hadn't twitched. He had never seen anything coming, and now the children were running free in his factory, and led by a trained fighter. The plan was so well thought of, how could it turn so wrong ? Nevermind. The Factory was way bigger than they could imagine, and a hundred times more boobytrapped than the _Cube_. They stood no chance, and once he got them all, he would take his revenge on them, beginning by the girl, for having tried to fool him. He would work on her for hours, making her bitterly regret up to the first day of her pathetic life. And then it would be the others' turn. One per day, or maybe more. He had all his time. After all, if the parents tried to break into the Factory to save their kids, he would just have to move away. He had several other facilities ready to replace this building, in all Europe and beyond. No-one would find him. Ever.

As his eyes remained expressionless, lost in his deepest thoughts, his lips started moving by themselves, and a slow whispering voice, far from his usual childish tone, came out of his throat and started singing, improvising word per word:

_Six kids walking in a Factory,_

_Tic-Tac-Toe..._

_One kid ran to his fate,_

_And ended up in chocolate !_

_Tic-Tac-Toe..._

_Five kids walking in a Factory,_

_Tic-Tac-Toe..._

_One kid wanted to win a bet,_

_How horrible was her fate !_

_Tic-Tac-Toe..._

_Four kids walking in a Factory,_

_Tic-Tac-Toe..._

_They thought they were smarter,_

_They managed to protect her._

_Tic-Tac-Toe..._

_Four kids lost in a Factory,_

_Tic-Tac-Toe..._

_I shall give them a chance,_

_I will enjoy to make them dance,_

_Until they lose balance,_

_All is a matter of patience._

_Tic-Tac-Toe..._

_Can you hear this ?_

_Tic-Tac-Toe..._

_It's a sound you can't miss._

_Tic-Tac-Toe..._

_There is no way out._

_Tic-Tac-Toe..._

_And your time is out._

_Tic-Tac-Toe..._

_Six kids came in this Factory,_

_With their wonderful smiles,_

_Joy will now leave their eyes,_

_Six kids will die in this Factory._

_Tic-Tac-Toe..._

And suddenly, the elevator stopped with a _Ping ! _and it's doors opened. The chocolatier was now in front of a rusty iron gate so inhospitable that it looked like the entrance of Hell itself. Over that door, there was a red neon sign that summed up in two words all the horror one could find beyond these gates: _Basement 13_.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now it will definitely turn wrong. I have some precisions to give: Alex, Jessy, Hartigan Smith and the town of Cooper Riverside mentioned before are part of an amateur novel I wrote (and I will translate in English someday) called _Chronicles of a Serpentiform Human_. It's a fantastic story about how wrong vigilantism can turn, and it focuses on Aleksey's adventures in California, two years before he enters the Chocolate Factory. This story is kind of a crossover between CATCF and my personal creation. The Serpentiform Human has also been created for that novel. As explained before, it's a creature that has human appearance and intelligence, but many physical, physiological and instinctive abilities of a snake, such as hyperdevelopped senses, total lack of body and facial hair, forked tongue, "cold" mind, and many others. Alex will give better details in the following chapters. By the way, he's the only existing Serpentiform Human.

I hope you like it so far. Oh, and the song _Tic-Tac-Toe_ is mine too. In the next chapter, the kids will experience the side effects of the drugs they consumed. See you there !


	12. Taste Like Children

Hi, sorry for the long time, I was quite busy these days. I promised a "bad trip nightmare" in this chapter, but while writing I realized it would make a chap too long, so I split it in two, and the bad trip will occur in the next chapter. This one is the beginning of serious troubles, it's been inspired by Marilyn Manson's _Dope Hat_.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So," asked Charlie, "where are we going now ?"

They were in the corridor, and they had two options: if they took the left, they would come back to the Inventing Room which was a dead end because they had no boat to follow the river back to the Chocolate Room, and from there, the exit. As if Wonka chose the boat ride for the sole purpose of stopping them if they tried to flee... and if they took the right, well, it was the All Unknown... and in all this, they had absolutely no clue on where Violet and Augustus could be.

"Okay," said Aleksey, "let me focus..."

And the mercenary sat Indian-style on the floor and closed his eyes.

"What are you doing ?" asked Mike.

"Have you noticed a certain amount of... snakes appearing here and there, since the beginning of the Tour ?"

"Yes !" said Charlie, "I saw one in the Inventing Room ! And I think there was another one in the Chocolate Room, it scared Violet..."

"Exactly. Well, they're mine. I brought in four snakes, and released them at strategic spots in the building. One in the air vent system, one in the Chocolate Room, who followed Augustus in the pipe, one in the Inventing Room, and the last one..."

"In Violet's tracksuit," said Mike. "I saw it crawl in her pocket when you tried to help her."

"That's it."

"But why ?" asked Veruca. "Why did you release in all those creepy-crawly creatures ? You thought the place wasn't scary enough ?"

"No, it's not that at all. You won't believe me, but it's the truth: I am connected to them. What they see, I see it through their eyes. What they hear, I hear it through their ears. If I concentrate enough, I can make a connection with a snake close by, and perceive everything he perceives."

"You mean they're like living surveillance cameras, to you ?" asked Mike.

"In simple words, yes."

"So this legend was also true..."

"Yeah, now will you let me focus ?"

As he ordered, the kids left him in his meditating stance and moved a few meters away. Charlie and Veruca approached Mike and murmured:

"Mike, what is the Snake exactly ?"

"I was pretty sure you wouldn't know him," replied Mike, also murmuring, "he's not very well-known outside the States. He appeared two years ago, in a small Californian city. He was some kind of mad vigilante, like the Punisher without guns, you see ? He went out at night, killing people: rapers, sadists, child molesters, and also some who didn't really deserve it, such as school bullies."

"I'm used to being bullied," said Charlie in a somber voice, "and sometimes, even if I know it's bad, I catch myself hoping that they would die..."

"Sorry for that, dude," sympathized Mike, "but you see, it seems that this guy was like you and one day, he decided to act. No-one has ever discovered who he was, for everyone he was just the Snake. Tons of urban legends spreaded around him and his powers, including one that said he could find his preys wherever they were, as if he had a camera pointed at them. Well, now we know how he did that. He did this kind of work for three months, all the summer. Traumatized his city to a point that this particular summer is now referred to by Black Summer, or Summer of the Serpentiform Fear. For some, he was a guardian angel, for the others, he was the Devil himself. Small children believed in him as a punishing monster who would kill them in their bed if they misbehaved. I even heard that they invented a song for him. That's to say, his sole presence reversed the balance of power: bullies wet their pants while their victims felt safe."

"And what happened after those three months ?"

"He disappeared, plain and simple. If I had to make a theory, it seems he came back to Kazakhstan and became a bounty hunter. But why did he do all the way from his country to come and perpetrate all these murders in the States, I don't know."

"And his story about the half-human half-snake, is it true ?"

"It's hard to believe, that's for sure. The cop in charge of the investigation, Hartigan Smith, denied this possibility, but most of the people who witnessed his acts think it's true. I'm a pragmatic, so I didn't believe any of this before, but now I saw it with my own eyes, I tend to believe that... yeah, a being like the Serpentiform Human could exist."

Veruca hissed in desdain.

"What ?" asked the genius.

"I don't believe it, it's impossible. He's maybe a skilled fighter, but a Snake-Man ? We're not in one of your comic-books, you know."

"Well, ask him for a proof."

"I'll do it."

And on these words, the girl came back to Aleksey. She was maybe learning to be nicer, she still hated being wrong. And she always found those bad horror stories pretty annoying. When she was younger, she already thought that her parents were pissing her off with their stories of monsters under the bed, and now, here was a snake-like monster ! No, it was just make-up and good special effects, but a Serpentiform Human couldn't exist, and she would prove it.

She coughed. The Snake opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Yes ?"

"Why does it take so long ?" she asked.

"Too many connections."

"What ?"

"It seems that there's a room somewhere in that factory... a room full of snakes. Hundreds, not to say thousands. Too many, they disturb me, I can't find my snakes."

"Well, I wanted to know something..."

"Yeah, what ?" he asked while getting up.

"Well, I'm very grateful for what you do for me, really, but..."

She was very hesitant. After all, it was the first time she had to deal with a killer, and her bratty side was slowly dying.

"I don't believe in your powers."

"Okay, it's your choice."

"No, I meant that... well, I wanted a proof."

"Oh, okay... let's see..."

He sticked his forked tongue at her, swung it up and down, and said:

"So you like French soap, your perfume smells like strawberry but it's a synthetic fragrance because there are signs of petroleum distillates, the most common ingredient for synthetic perfume. Oh, you brush your teeth with eucalyptus-based toothpaste, that's good. Did I mention that you use all-natural shampoo ?"

She was blushing, turning as red as a tomato.

"How... how do you know all this ?"

"I smelled it, my dear. Or, to be more precise, I _tasted_ the different scents emanating from you. You believe me, now ?"

"Well... yeah... I think."

_Damn, it was real !_

"Okay," asked Mike, "what are we gonna do ?"

Alex looked at him, and his yellow eyes didn't seem as confident as before.

"I don't know."

"What ?" screamed Mike out of anger. "What does it mean, I don't know ? You're supposed to be a professional or no ?"

"Hey, chill out, boy. I am a professional when it comes to urban areas or open battlefields, but I have absolutely no experience of this kind of building. The biggest facility I had to infiltrate was a Russian military campsite in Grozny."

"And you came here without a plan ?"

"My original plan depended on my ability to use my snakes to have eyes in the main sectors of the building, making easier our way to the exit. But as I said, there are too many snakes here and I can't connect with my ones unless I'm very close to them. And as I don't control them, they still have their own will, they can be anywhere now."

"So, to make short, you don't know what to do."

"Exactly."

Charlie began to panick.

"So we're definitely lost ! We won't make it out and we'll die here !"

"Hey, I didn't say that ! It will take more time than expected, but if we think about it altogether, we'll sure find a way to the exit."

"The exit ?" asked Veruca. "Aren't we supposed to save Violet and Augustus first ?"

"No, first I'll take you out of here, and then I'll look for our two friends."

"I will help you," said Mike.

"You'd better leave this to professionals."

"Listen, Alex: I swore to Violet that I would protect her, I can't just sit and wait while she's in danger. And for once in my life, something thrilling happens to me outside a video screen, so don't spoil my moment of glory with your professional attitude, and let me help you."

The Snake sighed. Kids will be kids.

"Well, I'm not paid to protect you, after all. Just remember one thing: it is _your _choice, and I can't be held responsible for anything that could happen to you."

"I will help you too," said Veruca.

"No way ! You, you're too precious."

"Come on, I needed a NDE to realize that all my life, I was hiding behind Daddy at the slightest problem and counted on him to get me everything. Now, I want to face my problems."

_Damn,_ thought Charlie, _she's so insanely courageous. Follow her. Prove her that you care for her._

"I'm here too," he said.

Veruca gave him a quick look in response. A look that meant _Thanks_.

"You see, Snake," she said, "we're all here. You want it or not, but we're all on your side and we won't leave our friends alone."

They were all staring at the mercenary now, all with determination in their look. He had no choice.

"Fine. Mike, you're the one who gave them the idea of this crazy expedition, so if anything bad happens to Veruca and I don't get paid, I'll hold you responsible. And in this case, this Factory is a Paradise compared to what awaits you. Got it ?"

The genius gave him a challenging smile and said:

"I take the risk."

He seemed to be taking all the situation a bit too lightly, but it was his strategy: act as if it was a videogame, so that panick wouldn't get him. According to his theory, if one day there was a zombie invasion, only _Resident Evil _players would survive, because they would be used to the situation and know how to handle it.

"Okay," agreed the Snake, "so, any idea ? We need to progress fast if we want to have a chance."

Charlie said:

"I think the first thing to do is to go back to the Inventing Room. There must be other doors that we've not seen, and maybe we'll find where they took Violet."

"That's a good idea, although it sounds a bit risky. But I think we'll have to run to the unknown, anyway. I agree. Veruca ?"

"I agree too."

"Mike ?"

"I don't know... I was thinking..."

"Yeah, what ?"

"This building... so large, so modern... machinery, traps, and all. There must be something to control all this mess."

"What do you mean ?" asked Veruca.

"A computer. This facility is too large, it can't work without a computer system. If I get to a CPU, I might be able to hack the system from the inside and take control of the Factory. Traps, surveillance cameras, maps, all the security system would be under our control. We'd win, checkmate."

That was right ! Alex hadn't considered this option... computers had never been his strong spot, the last time he tried to use one, he only managed to dump all the system of an administrative bureau, when he was supposed to actually _sneak_ in the system. But if Mike could really do that, if he could really crack the system...

"You think you can make it, Mike ?"

"Alex, I got my Golden Ticket right from Tokyo by hacking more programs than you'll never use in all your life. This is gonna be child play."

Charlie said:

"We can come back to the Inventing Room and find you a computer there, no ?"

"I don't think so. The core system, as the name says, is most likely to be situated in the core of the Factory. Which means..."

He pointed his arm at the right corridor, the one that was completely unknown to them.

"This way."

Veruca replied by pointing her arm at the corridor they came from:

"But Violet and Augustus are most likely to be in this part. We can't abandon them, they will be lost if you don't find a computer."

"Exactly, that's why you're gonna look for them. Meanwhile..."

_Oh, no, not this_... they all expected what he was about to say:

"I'll go look for the computer. Alone."

"It's suicide, Mike," said Aleksey, "if we spread up, we won't stand a chance..."

"We're overpowered, Alex. Staying together won't change a thing. Our skills are the only way to take us all out of here. You can use your strength to protect them. And I'll use mine to save us all. I'll find that damn computer and hack it. Just trust me."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned back and started following the right corridor. After a few steps, he turned back again to face them and said:

"If you get nothing from me in ten minutes... wait longer."

And he disappeared, running to his objective. Thoughts of glory were racing through his head and giving him a new energy. He would save them all. He would be a hero, using his very special power: the computers. Deus Ex Machina: God is in the Machine.

Alex and the others watched him go and started moving to the Inventing Room. Veruca and Charlie walked in front, the Snake was a little behind. None of them spoke. Veruca had something to say to Charlie, but she wanted to tell him alone. The presence of the Snake made her a bit uneasy. And they were all worried about Mike. One more was gone. They were six at the beginning, now they were only three. If it went on like that, only one would remain. Both Charlie and Veruca were terrified at the idea of being the last one, alone in these endless corridors, with nothing to do but wait for their fate... the Snake, on his side, was as tensed as a reptile could be. His glare didn't leave the young girl for even a second, and he kept repeating in his head: _Eyes on the Prize, Eyes on the Prize... she represents two hundred thousand pounds, Eyes on the Prize_... he remembered the lessons of his mentor: _There are two golden rules when infiltrating an enemy facility: One, detect and remember every hostile activities, let it be cameras, guards, patrols or motion sensors. Two, the most important, Do Never Get Lost. If, for any reason, you can't satisfy those two criteras, there are two possibilities: if you're a believer, pray. If you're not, it's Game Over._

In this case, they were actually lost, and this place was so wicked that "hostile activities" were totally impredictible. And guess what ? He was not a believer.

"Wait a minute," said Charlie, "I think there's something wrong."

"What ?"

"The corridor. I didn't remember it being so long. Normally, we should be already there."

"Yeah, that's right," confirmed Veruca as she looked at the white, doorless walls. "That's bizarre, we did exactly the same way: we turned right, then left, right twice, left, right, left three times and right."

"No," replied Charlie, "we did right, left, left, right, left, right, right, left, right, right, right, left, and finally right."

"Oh, no, we're not already lost ? Snake ?"

"Sorry, I tried again, but there's still none of my friends around to guide us. Let's just... follow our instinct and walk straight ahead. There must be a map somewhere. Or, if there's not, we'll just have to wait for Mike to break in the computer."

"If he does," replied the girl, somberly.

They continued their walk, and at the first intersection, they turned right.

"We did it !" screamed Charlie with satisfaction.

In front of them, there was now the door of the Inventing Room, a plain white door that fitted so well in the corridor that it was almost invisible. Charlie opened the door and rushed into the room, quickly followed by Veruca and Alex... and they stood still, in awe and disappointment.

"Wait a minute," said the mercenary, "we never visited this room..."

The room in front of them was large and had walls everywhere, like some kind... yes, that was it: they were at the entrance of a labyrinth. A labyrinth which walls were covered of wallpaper with different fruit patterns.

"What is this place ?"

Charlie discovered a small plaque near the door and read: "Lickable Wallpaper."

"Lickable ?" asked Veruca, visibly intrigued. "You mean you can actually... lick the wallpaper ?"

"That's what it seems..."

"I wonder..."

As she said that, the girl moved to the closest wallpaper.

"Veruca," said her bodyguard, "I don't think it's time for..."

"Just a minute, Alex, please."

She looked at the wallpaper which had strawberries printed on. Between the fruits, there was written in tiny vertical letters: _The Strawberries Taste Like Strawberries_. She took a lick. And her eyes widened in amazement.

"Damn, it really does ! It's unbelievable !"

Charlie approached her and looked at another wallpaper nearby. There were apples, with the mention: _The Apples Taste Like Apples_. And as he licked, he found that it really did.

Soon, the two children went on exploring every wallpaper of the room, trying to taste all the flavors they had. The Snake sighed. Distracted. Do never trust children. He was sure they had already forgotten the situation, and only this magic wallpaper was important for them now. Children will be children... well, this room didn't seem that dangerous, so better let them relax before moving on. He sticked out his snake tongue and tasted the air, just to be sure. There were virtually the same scents as in the Chocolate Room, with much less drugs... but there was still this deranging exhalation, the smell of a "secret ingredient" he had recognized sooner to be of animal origin. What could it be ? He decided to examine the different wallpapers to see where the scent came from.

Meanwhile, Charlie and Veruca were still licking the walls with glee. Veruca wanted to try every taste one by one, and that's what she was doing: _The Pears Taste Like Pears, The Blueberries Taste Like Blueberries, The Grapes Taste Like Grapes, The Snozzberries Taste Like Snozzberries_... she was moving from wall to wall while enjoying them, when she suddenly stopped. She jerked away from the wall with an expression of disgust on her face. She had just licked a wallpaper that tasted horrible, that tasted like... blood. She looked at the pattern, and what she saw made her heart stop. The different pictures followed one another like a strip cartoon. They represented two little girls, one of them had a pink dress and a fur coat, the other had a blue tracksuit. Wait a minute... these girls... it was her and Violet ! Captivated, she followed the strip: it depicted exactly what was supposed to happen to them: first Violet chewed the gum and turned into a giant blueberry. Then, Veruca was caught by the squirrels and thrown down the garbage chute. And then... then it became confuse... and scary... what was that barbecue for ? And what was that, a chainsaw ? And this... it looked like a skinning machine... why was there so much blood ? Under her warm fur coat, she felt goosebumps on her arms. And chills of fear, like a sawblade, cutting deep in her spine. Were these pictures showing... what was _really_ supposed to happen ? She looked for a mention, and found it, written in small bloody letters: _The Girls Taste Like Girls_.

_This is sick ! _She thought. _I must get out of here now !_

She turned round with the intention to go back to the entrance, when she bumped into a wall. But there was no wall behind her _before_... she looked around, and saw that she was in the middle of a square: four walls around her, and no door, no passage. No exit.

"Help !"

Aleksey froze when he heard this voice... Veruca ! The Contract was in danger ! He turned round to rescue her and found himself in front of a wall. He turned left, but there was another wall. Right, another wall. And behind, well, another wall. There was no way out. That was crazy ! There was a passage, right here, ten seconds before ! He hadn't seen anything, neither heard nor felt anything. How could he get immured so easily ?

Charlie bent down, spread his legs, and puked violently. The images he had just seen on the wallpaper were too much for him. He tried to calm down and breath strongly and slowly, just like Violet taught him on the boat. Once he felt better, he forced himself to watch again: _The Boys Taste Like Boys_ was the mention of this wall. It featured gruesome pictures of Augustus, Mike and him in unthinkable situations. That thing in the chocolate, was it... boiled fat ? And these... a torch and a drill ? And what was... no, he didn't want to watch anymore. He knew if he watched this too much, he would puke again. He didn't know if these pictures represented what was supposed to happen, and he didn't want to. He just wanted to leave this place as soon as possible. Willy Wonka was a monster, he was sure of it now, and he had to get out. But as he looked around, he saw that there was no way out anymore...

_Meanwhile, in Basement 13:_

Willy Wonka was standing in a small room with plain cement walls, heavily lighted by white neon lamps. The floor was filthy, full of brown stains that looked like dried blood. There were large metallic drawers against the walls, and in the middle of the room, there was a long metallic tray, like a stretcher without mattress... but with solid cuffs at each corner. Next to the stretcher there was a shorter tray presenting various surgical instruments such as needles, scalpels, scissors, pliers, and some more unusual ones, including hammers, drills, and even a torch. The room had the look of an autopsy lab, and it was as cold and unwelcoming. Except that the cuffs were a deranging detail... after all, the subject of an autopsy is supposed to be already dead, isn't it ?

There was another man, facing the chocolatier. This man was tall, rather old, and dressed in a completely black suit. He was bald, and he had a bowl hat, small round glasses, and an ugly scar on his cheek. He had the look of an undertaker and the face of a Nazi mad doctor.

"Boss," said the man, "I still don't understand why you don't catch them all now. Even if this... Aleksey is a trained fighter, you have total control over this Factory, they don't stand a chance."

Mr Wonka gave his subordinate a condescending smile and sat on a metallic chair.

"Mr Wilkinson, you are an excellent assistant, but you cruelly lack of imagination. As you said, they don't stand a chance, so we don't need to hurry. Let's give them a chance, or perhaps I should say, let's make them imagine that they have a chance, let them exploit it until they think that they're out of trouble, and at this very moment we will get them. One by one, always one by one, it builds the tension and makes the survivors wet their pants until it's their turn. That's what we call psychological harassment."

Mr Wilkinson smiled. He couldn't help but admire the sadistic genius of his boss. He used psychological torture as a prelude to the physical one. Brilliant. Just brilliant.

"By the way," asked the chocolatier, "are we done with our two guests ?"

"Violet Beauregard has just arrived in the Juicing Room, she will be transferred here as soon as the juicing is over."

"Good. I have very special plans for my cute little blueberry. And the other ?"

"Augustus Gloop has just been fished out. He should arrive in about half an hour."

"Excellent. Has anyone fed the Widow ?"

"No, Boss."

"Good, I want to give her a very special dish today. I hope she likes reptiles..."

"What should we do about the free kids ?"

"Mike Teavee is the only one who didn't eat anything in the Chocolate Room, and he's extremely intelligent. Catch him before he becomes a problem... you know, I respect this boy. He's way smarter than his fellow brats. As smart as an adult. It's an honor for me to have him in my Factory. We'll have his intelligence against my genius. The showdown will be... thrilling."

"Yes, Boss. And what about the others ?"

"Do nothing for now. With all the candy they ate, they must be completely drugged now. It won't be a long time before they trigger a nice, big..."

_Bad Trip !_

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Just some trivia:

The expression _chills of fear, like a sawblade, cutting deep_ comes from Lordi' _Blood Red Sandman_.

Mr Wilkinson comes from the 1971 CATCF movie.

And as I said, the wallpaper room comes from Marilyn Manson's clip (itself inspired from the 1971 movie)._  
_


	13. Dr Feelbad and the Bogeyman

Wow, so many reviews for one chap, first time it happens to me. Thanks a lot, everyone, really. Okay, this chapter is shorter than usual. First, I wanted it to include all the kids, but I found out it would be too long for a single chap, so I split again: this chapter is about the girls, next one will be about the boys.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Veruca opened her eyes. The room she was in was small, square, empty and white. All white. The walls, the ceiling and the floor were oddly soft, just like... a padded cell ? She sat up and examined herself: her hair was untied and messy. She was barefoot. Her only clothing were plain white pajama pants and a white vest with the sleeves tied to each others, to prevent her arms from moving. Wait a minute... it was... a straitjacket ! What was going on here ? She got up and looked at the door. It was a padded door, with only a small window to allow someone to observe her from outside. And an interphone nearby... she was locked in an asylum cell ! So what ? Wonka had won ? He had managed to turn her insane ? Nonsense, she knew she was perfectly sane, only she had absolutely no memory on what happened between the moment when she discovered the bloody wallpaper and now. Maybe she was still in the Factory, imprisoned in a special room made to look like a cell... she had to get out of here !

The girl started struggling with her jacket, trying to free her arms, but it seemed impossible. The jacket seemed to tighten to her body at each attempt. Soon, her shoulders were in pain, as despair and frustration invaded her. She felt boiling inside, and she wanted to explode, but this damn vest wouldn't let her do so ! With all her energy, she charged a wall like a football player, and hit it violently. In vain. It didn't change a thing, it didn't hurt her, and it didn't even ease her panick. Her last resort was to cry.

"Daddy !" she yelled louder than she ever yelled before. "Daddy ! Get me out of here ! Snake ! Charlie !"

No reply, and it's with a voice choked by sobbings that she finished:

"Mike... so there's no-one here ? Are you all gone ? Have we... lost ?"

Her eyes met the interphone beside the door, and her rage was coming back. She yelled at the machine:

"You, there ! I don't know if someone's listening, but I'm not crazy ! Can you hear me ? I Am Not Crazy !"

A noise replied her. The sound of a lock. The girl shut up and her heart beat faster: someone was opening the door ! She watched, panting in expectation, as it opened slowly... there were two men looking at her. One was half-bald and dressed in a white coat, like a doctor, and the other one was... her father ! She could feel her lips smile by themselves. She was saved !

"Daddy !"

She got up and ran to meet her savior, but two enormous guys in white shirts suddenly appeared out of nowhere and pinned her down. She struggled to break free, but they were just too strong.

"Daddy ! What's going on ?"

Mr Salt came closer and watched his daughter attentively. There was something odd in his eyes... he didn't look as if he wanted to stop what was happening. The doctor came by his side and said:

"Be careful, Mr Salt, it might be dangerous. Her behavior is extremely aggressive and impredictible."

"What is her problem, exactly ?" the gentleman asked.

The doctor took a notepad from his pocket and read:

"Sir, I'm afraid that your daughter has many problems. We spotted paranoia, persecution delirium, acute schizophrenia with dissociative identity disorder. Consequences are violent and impredictible behavior. Troubles started during the Wonka Factory Tour. She's persuaded that Willy Wonka set up this Tour for the sole purpose to kidnap and kill the children. There's also a very unusual symptom, have you seen _Fight Club _?"

"No."

"Doesn't matter, I'll explain you: it seems that your daughter invented a character, some kind of warrior who was supposed to protect her during the Tour. How did she call him... the Snake, that's it. A fearless character she created to compensate her feeling of insecurity inside the Factory. She could see him, she could talk to him and feel his presence, like a real person, but he was all in her head, and all the actions he was supposed to have accomplished were actually her actions."

"That explains the suddenly paranoid, incoherent and overly aggressive behavior she had during the Tour."

"Yeah, along with the complaints from Mr Wonka and the families of the kids..."

"I know, it's a regrettable incident. And I have no idea of what caused such a thing..."

"It's very simple, actually: she was just used to being spoiled and overprotected. The Tour separated her from you and placed her under an authority figure, Mr Wonka, that would not obey her and follow all her desires. This triggered an immense feeling of insecurity that led to..."

He pointed his finger at the girl who was still struggling with the two guards.

"This," he finished. "In our slang, we call this a Spoiled Brat Syndrom."

"She can't remain like that. Can you heal her ?"

"Sure. We were even planning to operate now."

On his words, two other men entered the room with a stretcher. Before she could realize what was going on, Veruca was lifted from the ground, her straitjacket was removed, revealing a white sleeveless shirt, and she was strapped tightly to the stretcher. She couldn't move a limb, exactly like when she was caught by the squirrels. Or did it really happen ? Everything this doctor said seemed quite possible. Had she really turned crazy in the Factory ? Were the Snake and Wonka's plot just... pure invention ? She was very calm now. It was no more boiling panick that got her now, it was more ice-cold fear.

"Daddy ?" her voice was almost inaudible.

"It's gonna be fine, sweetheart. The doctors will take care of you."

They had now left the cell and were following a long white corridor which walls had absolutely no doors. As if her cell was the only one of the facility. Veruca didn't say a word. She just listened and observed.

"Can you tell me more about the operation ?" asked her father.

The doctor replied:

"It has been observed that pathological spoiled brats develop a particular gland in their brain that is the cause of their mental disorders. We named this gland the Rotten Nut. Removing this Rotten Nut from the brain is often enough to heal the subject."

The girl now felt as if she wanted to pee and a great weight was put on her stomach. They wanted to operate her brain. They wanted to _open her skull _and operate her brain !

"Daddy !" she pleaded. "It's useless ! I feel much better, now !"

Mr Salt gently caressed her cheek and said:

"Come on, courage, girl ! It's just a little unpleasant moment, and then you will be a normal girl again."

"I am normal, Daddy ! The Snake... it's just my imagination. And Mr Wonka is a very nice guy ! Come on, Daddy, you see I'm not crazy, let's go home !"

"Do not believe her, Sir," said the doctor, "she's telling you what you want to hear."

Then he looked at her and said with a severe voice:

"And you, young lady, you shouldn't have been so bratty. Consider this as a punishment."

What ? Did he really say that ? Which doctor could be cruel enough to say such things ? Damn, everything had turned wrong since she awoke in her cell. It was like a nightmare, but it was too realistic to be a nightmare. It was real, and that was the worst. Her thoughts were interrupted as they passed a door and arrived in a circular room. Her stretcher was installed in the center, right under a powerful white spotlight that hurt her eyes. An operation room. It was time. It was inevitable. _Just don't panick, and you'll be fine_...

"Young lady," said the doctor cheerfully, "you'll have the chance to be operated by one of the world's greatest surgeons ! Say hello to Dr Walter Wincott !"

Veruca lifted her head to look at her torturer. He was smiling, showing his absolutely flawless teeth. He was wearing a standard green coat and purple latex gloves. His brown hair was cut page boy-style, he had a very pale complexion, and violet eyes... _Oh No ! _

This time, panick took over the poor girl and she couldn't contain a high-pitched yelling that was maybe loud enough to break glass.

"Veruca, sweetheart !" screamed her father, visibly nervous, "what's happening ?"

"This is him !" she replied, still yelling, "this is Willy Wonka ! He's come back for me ! Daddy, don't let him touch me !"

The surgeon giggled.

"Willy Wonka ? This is the first time I'm confused with him. No, little girl, _here_ is Willy Wonka."

He pointed his finger at a picture nailed on the wall. Veruca took a look at it and yelled again:

"You're kidding ! That's Marilyn Manson on the wall ! There's something wrong here, let me go !"

"Oh, come on," replied the so-called surgeon while approaching her, "you're a big girl, stop behaving like a scared kitten."

And then, ignoring her whinings, "Dr Wincott" began installing straps and wedges all around her head to prevent it from moving, even for one millimeter. When it was done, he used tiny steel tweezers on her eyelids to keep her left eye wide open. Now, the only parts of her body she was still in control of were her fingers, her toes, her right eye and her mouth. And the bright light was piercing through her open eye, and it hurt very bad. But what could she do, beside waiting and praying ?

Willy Wonka (because it was him, she couldn't deny that) leaned over her head, with a scalpel in his hand and a surgical mask on his mouth.

"The Rotten Nut is located precisely behind the left eye," he explained, "I'll have to remove the eye in order to get the gland. I just hope we'll be able to put it back without much damage..."

"What ?" the girl asked. _Remove the eye_, was that what he said ?

"Hey, wait !" she screamed. "It won't work ! This will kill me, or make me half blind ! You can't do that !"

"Veruca, sweetheart," replied her father, "I think Mr Wincott knows what he's doing."

"No, he doesn't ! Can't you see that, Daddy ? This guy is Willy Wonka, he's a psycho who only wants to hurt me ! You don't wonder why he didn't even give me an anaesthetic ?"

She felt something being forced in her mouth, and this thing blocked it completely, definitely preventing her from talking or screaming. Wonka had just put a ball gag in her mouth to shut her up ! It was over now. Her last hope was to convince her father, and she'd failed. The surgeon lifted his scalpel over her head, and slowly, very slowly, approached it to her eye. Nothing was scarier than this very precise moment for the girl. She saw the blade growing near and slowly concealing the light as it did so. This blade was her fate coming. Inevitable. Now, she just hoped that she'd faint before it becomes too painful.

_Daddy, I Want To Go !_

She closed her eyes. She managed to close her eyes, and she didn't know how. She hadn't felt him removing the tweezers. What was happening ? Whatever, she didn't want to open her eyes again, not to see this horrible scalpel ready to dig in her skull. But... she felt no more restraints around her head. She was free to move her head ! She decided to turn it right, so that she would face the Marilyn Manson picture, and opened her eyes... _What the ? _

Instead of the picture, there was now this wallpaper, the one with gory pictures. _The Girls Taste Like Girls_. So she hadn't imagined it, it did exist, but what was it doing in the hospital ? Unless... unless it was not a hospital...

And suddenly, the straps, the stretcher, even the floor, disappeared without warning, and she let out a yell as she fell in a pitch dark pit.

No way to see where she was, the pit was way too dark, but after a few meters of free fall, she landed heavily on a convex metallic ground, and started sliding, like on a playground slide. This pit was more a big pipe that went down, like a chute. And it was too smooth to grip on something, so the girl just stiffened her body and let herself slide. After all, it had to stop somewhere, no ?

After a time that seemed to be neverending, a particularily fragile part of the pipe gave way under her weight, and she finally landed on a flat, solid ground of concrete. It was over. Finally.

She got up, trembling, and stood on her black slippers. Wait... she was barefoot before... she examined herself: the shoes were definitely here, and the white stockings with little hearts, the pink dress, the fur coat, and her hair was pulled backwards in ringlets with two dragonfly-shaped clips. It was the exact attire she wore in the Factory, just a little soiled. How did it come back ? She examined the surroundings: it was very poorly lighted, but she could tell she was in a narrow corridor of nude concrete. Like the corridor of a bunker in Normandy, which she visited during a school trip to France, two years ago. On the ground, beside her, there was a large metallic plate. That was the part of the pipe that broke off under her. She looked at the ceiling and managed to distinguish the big pipe running horizontally over her head, with the hole from which she came. Where was she ? A few feet in front of her, a rat was nibbling a very old, almost fossilized Wonka bar, with half of the wrapping paper still on. She examined the walls and found a large notice written in black paint:

_Basement 11: Garbage Disposal Facility, Maintenance Passage._

Under this line, it was written:

_Caution ! Always make sure that all furnaces are out before descending to the facility, unless your dearest dream is to become a giant hot-dog._

This... this line of dark humor was typical from Willy Wonka ! And there was a Wonka bar on the ground... was it the basement of the Factory ? So this meant that all she had seen before, the asylum, the operation, the surgeon, all was a nightmare ? But it seemed _so_ real... but didn't the Snake mention that the candy she ate were filled with drugs ? _Now_, she understood ! She had never left the Wallpaper Room, and she had imagined all this twisted asylum scenario that had become "real" because of the drugs ! She didn't know exactly who she landed in this basement, surely a trap that activated when the "bad trip" wore off, but she didn't care much. She leaned on a wall and, against all odds, started laughing. Laughing to tears. She was sane ! The Snake did exist, and Wonka's plot was not her imagination ! It seemed weird, but she was actually happy to be back in the Factory. Because even this place was better than that dreadful surgical room. And she knew that, if she made it out alive, she'd be reunited with her parents, her parents who loved her and who would never leave her under the grasp of a mad doctor. Suddenly, she heard music. Guitar themes, that seemed to come from the pipe... she looked at the hole again, but there was nothing to see. She realized that what she heard were the Oompa Loompas whose song echoed through the pipe to her ears:

_Veruca Salt, the little brute,_

_Has just gone down the garbage chute,_

_And she will meet, as she descends,_

_A rather different set of friends!_

_A rather different set of friends!_

_A rather different set of friends! _

The girl felt a coldness crawling up her spine. Those creepy creatures were still there, somewhere. It reminded her the danger of her situation, and it calmed her down. She had to leave, as soon as possible. Let's see... the 11th basement... she didn't know how large the Factory really was, but it was sure a long walk to reach the surface ! And as she had no clue on where to go, she took a random path and walked through the shadow...

_Meanwhile..._

Violet woke up to find herself in bed. Her first reaction was to giggle. She laughed at her own silliness. Was this all a dream ? Of course it was ! It was so crazy that it couldn't be anything else. She was in the hotel, and her mother was sleeping in the bed beside. In a few hours, the Great Factory Tour would begin ! The young girl tried to remember how this crazy dream began: first, she had dreamt of the snakes, as she did often. Then, she had gone out in the hotel hallway, to try to relax before going back to bed. That's when she believed that the Bogeyman was chasing her, and she fainted. That must be when the dream began: first, she woke up in bed with Mike, then the Bogeyman (under the name of Aleksey) appeared and joined them in the Tour. Then, everything went wrong, she chewed a strange gum and became a giant blueberry... she remembered of a pink boat, and a group of midgets... that's when she definitely woke up. She had never moved from her bed, actually ! Ew, what a nightmare ! _Now_, she needed that walk. She got up to do so, but... she couldn't move ! She looked: the sheets and covers had disappeared, she was lying on the mattress, dressed in her blue tracksuit, the one she intended to wear for the Tour. And there was something cold and smooth restraining her wrists and ankles... snakes ! She tried to jerk away, but the reptiles had a firm grip, they were like primitive cuffs. Her heart beat faster, and she felt she was having cold sweat. What were these creatures doing here ? She looked around, and what she saw made her speechless. _No, not again !_

The sky was dark and cloudy. She was in a forest of black, leafless trees. And it was cold. Just like her nightmare. Won't she ever wake up ? The ground was covered by millions of snakes, and the mattress she was lying on was sliding over them, just like a boat sailing on the sea. A sea of snakes. An ocean of snakes. This idea was gloomy. She forced herself to keep her eyes open. _Okay,_ she thought, _do not panick. It's only a dream, and a dream can not hurt you. Just face it, and it will fade away..._

"Did you sssssssssssleep well, Misssssssssss Violet ?"

This voice, again ! She saw the man approaching, walking on the reptiles. The Bogeyman was like she imagined him before, but this time, there were no snakes on his body, and his face was clearly visible. He came very close to her, and despite of the forked tongue and the yellow eyes, she recognized him.

"Aleksey ?"

"Ssssurprised to ssssee me ? I thhhought you'd have underssssstood ssssooner that I am thhe one who hauntss you..."

She tried to stay calm. Staying calm is the best way to defeat a nightmare.

"No," she said, firmly. "You don't even exist. You are a product of my imagination."

"Oh, really ? And thisss, it'sss your imagination ?"

He pointed his finger at her stomach pocket, and she saw a short snake crawling out of it. She let out a small scream.

"How did it ?" she began.

"I put it in your pocket while you were chewing that gum. Thhhhhe one that turned you to a blueberry."

"No ! I dreamed that !"

But suddenly, she had all different sensations: she was no more on a mattress, her body had become huge, and round, and fat, and blue... she was a giant blueberry, no doubt about that ! It was not a nightmare, it was real !

"Oh, no, you did not ! It did happen, and now it'ssss time... to juice the blueberry ! Get thhe pressssss !"

And on his words, the dim light was completely concealed by a threatening black block that appeared, floating in the air over the defenseless girl. And the block was slowly descending. Violet watched it with wide eyes, not knowing what to do. The block eventually made contact with the fat body, and the girl was invaded by pain. She was being compressed, she could feel her bones cracking, her guts racing to her throat... she opened her mouth widely, and vomit a thick purple liquid. She couldn't stop as gallons and gallons of purple juice gushed from her mouth. It was the most unpleasant feeling she had ever experienced. She was even ready to die, now, if it could make it stop. Anything for it to stop... but it didn't, and the torture continued endlessly.

All around her, it seemed like the snakes were laughing at her torment. Aleksey was laughing too, louder than the others. And his laughter, oddly, sounded exactly like Willy Wonka's...

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ouch, very unpleasant fate for the girls, but the boys won't be better. Consuming drugs is an ugly thing ! Well, I hope you liked it, and bad news, I may write slower from now, because school's coming back and I'm attending college, so I'll have less time... but whatever happens, I will never forget !


	14. A Sick Evil Mastermind

Really sorry for the long time, I couldn't access the Net for over a month, but I didn't abandon ! After leaving the girls in quirky situations, I'll focus here on Mike's fate, and how the situation evolves outside. I'd like to make clear that I suck at maths, and all of Mike's calculations here are invented and far-fetched.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike stopped at an intersection. Since he left the group, he'd been running the corridor straight forward, so self-confident that he didn't even wonder where he was going. But now, well, he was in front of a wall and he had to make a choice: left or right ? Both could lead virtually anywhere in the facility. He hated those situations ! A normal person would decide by instinct, or by coin toss. Mike had no instinct and didn't believe in coin toss. His brain was made of logic and knowledges, there was no room for such things as imagination or luck. So much time spent with machines made him think like a machine.

_That's it ! _He thought._ Big Mike, you're a genius ! All this Factory is like a huge machine. A machine you can crack and control with no effort, because you are a machine too. Think like a machine !_

Okay. The boy looked at the intersection again. Left or right. Only two possibilities, exactly like a binary system. The Occidental way of reading is from left to right, so if he translated his situation into binary language, the left way would come first and the right way would come second. That makes left equal to zero and right equal to one. Now, he had left to find the right number. He had crossed five intersections before, and always gone forwards. From the point of view of someone coming from these intersections, he had then gone left, right, left, left, right. Translated in binary numbers, it gave 01;001.

_The end of this sequence in 0001, _he thought_. So if I take left three times and then right, I'll find the central computer !_

He had the direction ! He immediately ran this way, and soon found a round hatch with written in neon letters _Core System_. Below, there was painted:

_Use only for System Maintenance. Improper use may cause Serious Malfunctions._

Mike let out an arrogant laughter. Malfunctions was a sweet euphemism. He would wreck up all this damn system, that was it !

He pulled the hatch. It wasn't locked. He entered the room. It was circular and of average size. Mike expected a giant room with walls covered with monitors and complex control panels, but it wasn't that at all: the walls, the floor and the ceiling were of stainless steel, without anything on them. It was like the inside of a micro-wave oven. There was only a computer against the wall opposite to the door. The genius approached the machine, and realized with astonishment that it was a simple personal computer, a Dell Dimension that could be found in any supermarket in Denver. It was not even better than the one Mike had in his bedroom. So this... this _thing_ was supposed to be the Core System of the Factory ?

This time, it was too much for the genius who burst in hysteric laughter. All that mess just for this... finally, Wonka was not as dangerous as he seemed. Maybe crazy, maybe mad, or psychopath, there's one thing sure, he was _stupid_. He had a facility full of incredible rooms and vicious traps, and all he used to run it all was a computer that Mike could install and configure blindfolded in less than five minutes (and believe me, he already tried) ! Okay, better finish it quickly and he would be out of the building for dinner. He turned the machine on, and the screen turned bright blue while the soft purring of the CPU came to his ears. The boy was thinking of the evening. He estimated that he could break in the system in ten minutes, and ten more minutes to control it. From then, it should be fast, maybe one hour to gather everyone and get out of here. It wasn't too late, now, maybe the middle of the afternoon. According to his predictions, they would be out for tea. Journalists would sure be there, and would ask him how they got out of here. He would patiently explain them how he humiliated the candyman by breaking through his system like a knife cutting through butter. Maybe he would invite Violet for dinner, just the two of them ? After all, how could she refuse an invitation from her hero ? But there was Aleksey, the Snake... oh, well, she would sure forget him. After all, he was not a hero, he was just paid to protect Veruca. A bully boy, nothing more. And he sincerely didn't think she would find him so attractive with yellow eyes and this whip-like tongue. Yeah, no need to worry about him...

He heard a small beep. The computer was ready. He looked at the screen: it was still blue, and there was a message appearing slowly in white letters:

_Seriously, little boy, did you really think this stupid machine was the real Core System ? Well, you're not as smart as I thought. For your personal information, the system of this Factory is designed in a specific way so that the core is accessible only via a special computer which is precisely beside me at this very moment. So, unless you can turn yourself into a pack of high-frequency waves and reach the core by teleportating into the cyberspace, little boy, you have no chance to take control of my wonderful Factory. Now that I beat you, I can get my rewards. I'm sure you'll love what I have in store for you. Bye, little boy, and enjoy yourself !_

Then, the text disappeared and was replaced by a picture of Willy Wonka waving his hand at the boy, and beside, written in fancy golden letters:

_Greetings from Willy Wonka !_

And without warning, the monitor exploded. In a reflex, Mike crossed his hands in front of his face, but nothing hit him. The explosion had been way too weak to hurt him, the boy thought it was just aimed at impressing him.

A decoy... how could he be so stupid ? For a few seconds, he had to repress the urge to punch himself in the face. It was evident, a PC is not powerful enough to run such a place, he knew that ! Only he was too hurry to finish the job and go out to tell his heroic actions. His arrogance had made him stupid this time, and Wonka had smelled that. The guy would take profit of the specific weaknesses of each kids, and even a genius couldn't escape. It was hard for Mike to cope with that, but he had to get used to the idea: the chocolatier was stronger than him...

A loud alarm noise interrupted his wailings, and suddenly, it seemed that all the room was coming alive: flashing red lights, an endless schoolbell ring and three different alarm tones, all coming at the same time. It was like a video game going crazy !

_What does this crazed bastard have in store for me ? _Wondered Mike, who was getting more and more worried. For a second, he thought of running out of the room, but even through the deafening noise he could distinguish a metallic clinking followed by a hissing of compressed air, indicating that the hatch was sealed under pressure. He was locked in ! And no time to think about a rescue plan, because the second after, four black tubes popped out of the ceiling, unfolded like scrawny arms, and aimed at him. There was a diamond at the end of each of these tubes that seemed to observe the boy. He knew what these were. There were the same in _StarFox_, and in _Unreal_, and in _Quake_... these were photon cannons. Lasers, in other words. Deadly lasers. Now, Mike knew: no escape, he would end up fried in this giant oven. _Game Over, and no replay this time_. Paralyzed by fear, he watched with his eyes wide open as the deadly diamonds turned bright red... and fired at him.

_Outside..._

"Okay, boys, I want three recon units ready to investigate a.s.a.p. !" screamed Lieutenant Roarke, who was standing a few meters in front of the black gates.

A few minutes after the Snake's phone call, the parents, worried to death for their offsprings, decided to call the police. They had patiently explained the situation, not mentioning the mercenary and saying that it was Mike who called instead. Mr Salt wanted his business to remain in the shadow, and he knew that Alex wouldn't appreciate to have the British police on his back.

Thanks God, they were believed, and now it was a dozen of police cars, three vans, and a whole division of the SAS standing ready in front of the Factory, assault rifles in hands, waiting for the orders of Lieutenant Roarke. The cocky officer in green beret was busy doing his Schwarzenegger show to a devastated Mrs Beauregard:

"Don't worry, M'dam," the Rambo grunted with confidence while chewing the end of a toothpick, "your girl will be rescued in a blink. And if he did any harm to her, we're gonna rough him up a few before jailing him."

"If you ever succeed..." she replied sobbing.

"No doubt about it. We're professionals, you know. I did Londonderry myself."

Mr Salt, who was listening from further behind, hissed silently and murmured for himself: _And my man did Grozny. Think you can rivalize ?_

The officer then decided to finally throw the assault. He raised his hand high in the air and screamed: "Get the tank !"

And a terrific roar made everyone turn their head to see a huge dark blue, heavily armored car that looked exactly like a tank without cannon driving up the road at a crazy speed and hitting the gates violently, bending and ripping the massive iron like paper. The tank stopped in the middle of the wreckage. Right after, the soldiers in blue suits and tactical masks rushed through the opened way into the great courtyard. Then, they became more careful, walking slowly like panthers while raising their guns in front of them and turning around each others. It was really impressive. Like a dance of death. Mrs Bucket, who had come too, stood beside the tank and watched. The soldiers stopped and one of them shouted:

"Lieutenant, nothing to report in the courtyard."

"Good," replied the officer, "move to the main entrance."

The men obeyed, but as they were halfway to the entrance, a booming party music came out of nowhere, and they all stopped by reflex, listening and expecting the danger:

_Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka..._

_The Amazing Chocolatier._

_Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka..._

_Everybody give a cheer!_

_He's modest, clever, and so smart,_

_He can barely restrain it._

_With so much generosity,_

_There is no way to contain it..._

_To contain...to contain...to contain...to contain._

_Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka..._

_He's the one that you're about to meet._

_Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka..._

_He's a genius who just can't be beat._

_The magician and the chocolate wiz..._

_The best darn guy who ever lived._

And at this moment, a dozen of small Willy Wonka dolls popped out of the snow, all with a small body and an oversized head wearing a silly smile that would've been amusing in other circumstances. There, they were more likely to give goosebumps, especially because their eyes were not eyes but... barrels !

_Willy Wonka here he is !_

Without having a single chance to react, all the soldiers in the yard were literally slaughtered by hundreds of tiny bullets that came from the dolls. The flawless white snow ran red with their blood. Mrs Bucket's blood turned to ice in her veins when she saw this. Then, the mouths of the Wonka puppets opened, and a sea of flames surrounded the dead bodies, charring them to the bones. Once it was done, they disappeared under the ground from where they came. There were no possible survivors. The elite of the British army had just been wiped out in a gruesome manner, right under the eyes of the desperate parents. Lieutenant Roarke dropped his toothpick, but he didn't notice: his face was as white as the snow. This... was the worst failure in the history of the SAS. It was _his _failure...

One of the remaining soldiers (that is to say, one who wasn't in the assault team) approached the tank and tapped with a trembling hand on the armored glass:

"Move it away, Kurt. We go on stand-by for now."

As a response, the vehicle's engine started, coughed violently, and stopped.

"Kurt, what's going on ?"

"Don't know," replied the pilot, "seems that the systems are out of order. That's weird, it's as if the building was generating a magnetic field around that jams the electronics..."

"You mean, like this thing in Hawaii, in 1999 ?"

"Yeah, kind of. He must have activated it when we tried to force the passage. He's a smart son of a b..."

The soldier looked at the huge grey building and had a shudder. Willy Wonka seemed to have set up everything to kidnap these kids. He seemed to want them so bad that he didn't hesitate to kill people. He was so intelligent that he had used advanced technologies as ways to counter the rescue operations. And those God-forsaken puppets were so... the soldier crossed himself twice. Once for his dead comrades, and another for the children who might never ever come back.

Mrs Bucket, just after having witnessed the onslaught, tried to run away, but her legs seemed to refuse to support her. She staggered, tripped, and fell. Her husband immediately came to her help.

"Are you okay ?"

The woman looked at him with a dead, zombie-like face. She was in shock.

"Our son is in there," she replied softly, almost inaudibly, "our only little loving child, we let him run to this vicious trap... remember how happy he was when he found the Ticket. And now..."

"Don't think about it," he murmured, "he will be fine. Remember, Mr Salt said there is a bodyguard with them. I'm sure he will save them all..."

Speaking of Mr Salt, he was now vainly trying to call the Snake with his cell phone. Every time he tried, the only thing he could get was cracklings. Mrs Beauregard left the Lieutenant (who seemed to be catatonic) and joined him.

"Trying to call him ?"

"Yes, but it seems that there's no reception."

"It's no use. I heard the soldiers talking, there's a magnetic field around the Factory. You can't call him from the outside."

"Great. Just great."

He sighed and tossed the phone on the snow with bitter disappointment.

"Looks like he saw this coming too," commented the woman. "The attack, and the cell phones to call from the inside... a magnetic field... that's pretty smart..."

Mr Salt found something strange in Mrs Beauregard's attitude. She was somber but not overly nervous, not afraid, as if she wasn't worried about her daughter. It took him some time before understanding it: she was _resigned_. For her, it was almost already over, Violet was dead. God, it was a pretty sad show...

"The pub, right there," she said with a neutral voice while pointing her arm towards a pub a few meters away from them, almost in front of the (former) Factory gates, "it's where they've taken Mrs Gloop when she fainted. The patron said he'd give us free coffee... You wanna come in and have a drink ?"

"I suppose there's nothing else to do..."

As they made their way to the pub, Mr Teavee (who was experiencing the side effects of all the Red Bull he drank, his eyes were red and he was constantly twitching) found the phone abandoned on the ground. He picked it up, and memories came back. A conversation he had with his son about phones, he didn't remember when exactly:

_Dad, why do you keep paying your phone bills ? It's so simple to phone for free, I'll explain: all you have to do is to download a special software on your cell phone that will allow you to connect on the operator's test line. As the test line is only used in case of trouble, the operator will not detect your call, and therefor, he will not make you pay. There are many other things you can do, such as connecting on the Net for free by intruding into the ISP computers. It requires some makeshift job, but it's not that complicated. I'll show you..._

For evident ethical reasons, he had always refused to use those tricks. But now, it was a situation of emergency, and he thought he could remember roughly how the manipulation worked. He looked at the blue tent, between the police vans, where the SAS had installed their communication materials. There were radios, and a laptop with instant Internet access using a military line. Yeah, maybe he could do it. He put the phone in his pocket and moved towards the tent. With this military stuff, he had a chance to break into the Factory's computers. He could succeed. He _had_ to succeed.

Mr Salt and Mrs Beauregard were almost arrived. They could already see, through the glass of the pub, the body of Mrs Gloop, still unconscious, lying on a table, like a monstruous fairytale princess. _Sleeping Beauty met Moby Dick_. At the next table, they saw the old Bucket sitting still, like meditating, with an untouched beer in front of him. The hysteria caused by the sudden twist of the situation was gone, and now the parents were all more or less like living dead. Before they reached the door, Stella Beauregard stopped and grabbed the gentleman's arm.

"Mr Salt..."

"Henry."

"Henry... I ask you once again, and this time I want you to answer honestly: do you really think your boy can make it ? No doubt he looks very competent, but after all he's just a kid, and Wonka... well, we just had the proof that he's a mastermind. A sick, evil mastermind."

"I fully understand your worriness, but I've been told about his past experiences... he did things this cocky Lieutenant Roarke would never even dream of doing. From what I heard... some say he's not even human. He doesn't experience fear. On the contrary, he smells the fear of his enemies and turns it against them. Like a real snake. If Wonka is evil, the Snake is worse. I'm sure that, as we speak, he's handling the situation and the chocolatier won't hold very long. Just be patient."

The worst is that the poor man really believed in what he said. Oh, little did he know how wrong he was. Legends can be bitterly deceiving sometimes...

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next chapter should come in a few days. I have plenty of time to write, but I'm in the current process of translating the Snake's novel to publish it on the other site so it might take more time.


	15. Fade to Back

Sorry, I was long to update again. I had troubles deciding how to organize the next chapters (it's quite hard to tell about six separated characters at the same time), but I eventually found out. Continuing on the hallucinating delirium, here's what happens to Alex and Charlie (for the sake of understanding, Tony is Alex's arch-enemy who appears in his original story).

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, the situation wasn't going any better for Alex and Charlie. Still trapped in their wallpaper cells, they were looking for a hidden door, a weak part of a wall, anything that could get them out. Charlie was overly nervous and began to cry. For the Snake, even his reptilian instinct had a hard time containing the panick his human side was suffering. He couldn't let panick invade him, because if he did, his heart would beat faster, heating his blood, and a snake with hot blood is an exhausted snake. If he wanted to be effective, he had to keep his blood cold and under low pressure, so that he would remain calm and ready to fight. But it wasn't that easy, and things worsened when he heard Veruca shrieking from another part of the room, shrieking as if she was being slaughtered. What was happening to her ? Had she fallen in a trap ? Was she in death danger ? Charlie heard her too, and this made him pass the edge of panick. If anything bad happened to her... not knowing what to do, he started punching the wall in despair, while screaming her name until he felt like his head would explode. He could vaguely hear the Snake, somewhere, hissing her name too, but he didn't give it any importance. He just prayed that Veruca would be okay ! He kept screaming and screaming, and when he had no more strength, he fell on his knees, leaning against the wall, and remained motionless, part panting part sobbing, totally depressed. There was no way out, and she was probably dead now...

_Charlie..._

The boy lifted his head and stood still like a hunting dog. He stopped crying. Even his heart seemed to have stopped. The voice that just called him... it was a soft, chanting female voice...

_Charlie..._

It was whispering his name very slowly, spelling every letter with the utmost affection, just like his mother would do when he went to bed... his mother ? Could she really be there ? But how ?

_Charlie, I was told that you were in danger. I came to save you._

"Mommy ?" he asked, without watching behind. He still couldn't believe it, and he dreaded to see that it was just an hallucination, or a trick. That's why he kept his face stuck to the wallpaper while talking.

"Mommy, is that really you ?"

_Yes, sweetheart. I did all the way myself._

"But that's impossible !"

_That wasn't easy, I can tell you that. But nothing is impossible for me when my little child is in danger. No-one can stop me, not even this candyman. Come on, I'll take you out of here._

The boy slowly shook his head as a negative response and said:

"Veruca... I can't abandon her. She's in danger, and Mommy, I like her very much you know..."

_It's okay, Charlie, we'll take her with us. She's safe for now. I saw her falling in a garbage chute, she's in the basement. I'll lead you there, is that okay ?_

"Yeah..."

_Turn round._

He did. And his mother was not behind him. There was no monster either, nor one of those freaky dwarves. There was just no-one except him in this small cell. But... it wasn't a cell anymore: there was now an opening in the horrible wallpaper, _The Boys Taste Like Boys_. It was a very narrow passage, and it was extremely dark behind it. It was like a darkness that no light could pass through. Charlie approached it, slowly, each of his breathings seemed to take an eternity, his feet seemed heavier at each step. He didn't want to go there. All of his nerves seemed to yell at him not to take this dark passage. Anything could rush out of the shadow and get him, anything. But if his mother made the way there, it meant it was safe, wasn't it ? He was now at the entrance. He did it. From there, he could barely distinguish the banister and the first worn-out wooden stairs of a staircase that went down. But there was no way to see what was down the stairs. The darkness was so intense that it was as if he was at the gate of the Nowhere, the Emptiness, like in old science-fiction movies. There was no wind, no coldness or anything coming from the black passage.

"Mommy ?"

At this moment, he was too preoccupied to notice that his voice did not echo in the black.

_Hurry up, Charlie. We don't have much time._

The boy, not very confident, grabbed the banister firmly and put his two trembling feet on the first stair. He heard the rotten wood creak under his shoes, along with another noise that seemed to come from below. A soft noise of wet and regular impact that echoed to his ears. That noise, it was... like drops of water falling in a puddle. But according to the sound, the puddle was extremely large. More like a pool. Was it flooded ?

"Mommy, are you down there ?"

_Yes, darling, we are._

"We ? You mean, you found Veruca ?"

_We're waiting for you, darling._

And then, the voice changed. For a few seconds, it became an ugly gurgling voice, as if she was spitting (_blood_) water while saying:

_We're all waiting to welcome you under, Charlie..._

The boy felt his hair rising, and cold sweat under his arms.

"Mommy ? Is there a problem ?"

_Not at all,_ she replied, her voice turning back to normal, _come on quick. It's dark, but I'll guide you._

And Charlie began descending the stairs, guided by his mother's comforting words that didn't comfort him at all: the voice was there, the words were there, but... it sounded fake. Only he was too hurry joining her to stop on such considerations. That's why he kept going under, and soon he was swallowed by the shadows...

On his side, the Snake had just engaged in a dangerous process: in certain, extreme situations, when his human side was about to fall in panick or despair, he had the ability to "shut down" his emotions, letting his most primal instinct, the Snake in its purest form, take over his entire being. Saying that this operation was dangerous was a sweet euphemism: it was _deathly _dangerous, because a primitive, reptilian instinct doesn't care about right or wrong, about moral and compassion. You want an example ? The last time he did it, he was a whisker away from shooting his girlfriend with a hunting rifle. But right now, he didn't care about the danger, because the Snake was here already. Suddenly, all feelings of fear, concern, even compassion, left him. Now he was as calm as a boa on a summer afternoon. His only matter was to find Veruca and get paid. And he wanted to hunt, too. The predator in him wanted to kill something. He sticked out his tongue, and a whole lot of new smells came to him. People. Young people. The air tasted like teenagers sweating, smoking and drinking. It was also getting hotter, and wet. This disturbed him quite a bit: heat had the despicable tendency of slowing him down; just like coldness. His body was very sensitive to temperature, maybe a bit too much. According to his experience, he could tell that the type of weather he was the most fit with was a summer's night: hot but fresh at the same time, and no sun, so not too much light... perfect for hunting.

Talking about light, it was precisely dimming. The wallpaper in front of him was taking a dark blue shade, and soon the mercenary found himself surrounded by a purple obscurity. And it was hotter than Hell, now !

_What's going on here ?_

This was just a plain, static interrogation. There was no surprise or fear in this thought. At this moment, a flickering white light appeared behind him and projected his shadow on the wall. Then it got brighter, and started flashing, every flash having a different color: white, blue, pink, green, yellow... the light behaved exactly like night club spotlights. And finally, a sound came to the Snake's ears... techno music !

_Ready, Steady, Go !_

He turned round, and understood everything: why there was music, why he smelled so many people, why it was so hot, and why it was so dark with crazy lights: he was in a night club. He was in _the _night club. He blinked three times, as if he was just awakening from a daydream. In front of him, in the middle of the tropical heat of the club, there was a large dancefloor crowded with teenagers, and behind it, a stage with a DJ station, rails of spotlights, and a black curtain at the right corner to hide the backstage entrance. Around the dancefloor, there were a few tables, and a bar on the left, hidden in the shadows. No-one was at the tables, they were all dancing or French-kissing in dark corners, aroused by the heat. The thick air stinked of cigarette and alcohol. This place was definitely the Hellbender Club, in Cooper Riverside, the Snake's hometown. _Wow_, he thought, _what a strange dream..._

Between the moment when he entered the club and now, he had had the weirdest of all daydreams: first, daydreaming never happened to him before, and certainly not in such a realistic way with such a demented scenario. In his dream, he was two years in the future, and he had become the bodyguard of a rich girl. He remembered getting lost in a giant factory, possibly Willy Wonka's Factory, and threatening things were happening... there was even a girl who looked exactly like Jessifer and a boy who was a computer expert ! The Snake couldn't help but let out a little laughter at how ridiculous this dream had been. But he'd better stop it. He knew exactly where he was and when he was, he was on the night of August 12th, 2003. A little swimming pool party with his friends had degenerated when his rival, Tony, sent two of his minions to try to capture him. He killed them both, then he had followed Tony's track to this club. He was here, somewhere, with the two last members of his gang, and Jessifer who was most probably held hostage. How could things have turned so wrong, this was a mystery to him: it had begun as a very nice barbecue between friends, and the evening was ending here in this club, his best friend Angel was at the hospital with her two legs severely wounded, there was a dead man in his alley, his house was half-destroyed, and his girlfriend was here, somewhere, maybe in danger. It would be hard to arrange such a situation but, hey, he was the Snake and nothing was impossible. He just had to do things in order, and the first thing on the list was to eliminate his nemesis, Tony, the cocky biker who was fool enough to believe he could stop it, and his last lieutenants, Billy Prescott and Carl Mannegan. Once his last opponents were killed, he could return to his work as the vigilante protector of Cooper Riverside, and no-one would dare to question his methods, no-one would dare to stand before him. He would be the master of the streets. He stepped towards the dancefloor, but by-passed it and went for the bar instead. He didn't know why he was so sure to find something there. As if some part of him had foreseen that, or... already done before... nevermind ! He was tired, worried and flippin' pissed off, it was normal for his mind not to be a hundred percent clear.

Whatever happened, he realized without much surprise that he was right about the bar: from where he was, he could clearly see the back of a young man leaning on the counter and engaged in a conversation of surely high philosophical interest with the bartender. The Snake quickly identified the man as Billy. He also smelled a horrible emanation of alcohol coming from him, indicating that he was dead drunk. Easy to handle, then. The killer snuck behind his prey in a way that the barman would not see him, and waited. After a few seconds, Billy mumbled for another tequila... the barman turned his back at him to serve... it was the moment ! Triggering this particular heart impulse that would send hard-pressured blood in his limbs, making them move as fast as a cobra's attack, the Snake violently kicked with the tip of his boot right in the back of Billy's knee. This kind of lashing attack was often so fast it could barely be distinguished, and so violent it took usually one strike to wear down or at least badly hurt an opponent. That's exactly what it did to Billy: despite his sensitivity to pain decreased by the alcohol, the young man let out a groan, lost balance, and fell. The Snake grabbed him by the hair before he hit the ground. The young drunkard was way too dizzy to struggle. The barman chose this moment to turn back at his customer, and stayed here, with a dazed look and a full glass of tequila in his hand. From where he was, he couldn't see Billy who was hidden by the counter.

"Hi..." he said shyly. "Where is my friend ?"

"Gone vomit. I replace him while he's nursing his stomach."

"Okay..."

Without adding anything, he put the drink in front of the killer and went cleaning some glasses. The Snake finished off his prey by breaking his nape in a neat move. His favorite technique. He let the dead body fall on the floor, perfectly knowing that in such a place, nobody would notice it. If anybody managed to see it despite of the obscurity and the mass hysteria, he would believe that it was just another victim of alcoholic coma. Alex took the drink, and swallowed it straight on. He felt like liquid fire running through his cold veins, triggering an involunteer impulse in his arm muscles that made him clench his fist and thus destroying the glass in his hand. The feeling was powerful, but oddly not that surprising. For a kid whose only alcohol experiences before were a few beers drunk while his parents weren't watching, he coped with the strong beverage quite easily. As if he was... used to it. This thought brought him back to the little conversation he had with the barman, and how he knew Billy was at the bar... he had the impression to have already lived that scene before. In its smallest details.

"Excuse me..." he asked.

"Yeah ?" answered the barman as he turned to face him.

"Have I already come here before ?"

The barman stood silent for a moment before asking: "What do you mean, sir ?"

"I don't know, it's just like... have you ever heard of feelings of déjà vu ?"

This time, the barman didn't seem ready to answer. He just stood there, silently, staring at him with blank eyes. The Snake saw that his eyes were violet and also noticed with a certain unease that the glass he was cleaning frenetically was already cleaner than clean. _What the Hell happened ? _he wondered. _Looks like this guy has a system crash or something..._

Then finally, speaking with a slow and turgid voice that could be the one of a lobotomized cow under hypnosis, he said: "You should really stop mumbling... little boy... it is... truly... irritating."

The Snake jerked away at these words, his heart pulsing with a sudden fright he had never experienced before. He didn't find the barman's behavior just weird, it was... he knew there was _something _underneath, but he didn't know _what_.

_Forget that lunatic. You have a job to finish._

Yeah, that was right. He walked away from the bar and turned back to the dancefloor, after giving a last glance at the man who was still staring at nowhere with dull eyes while cleaning the glass. Now he had to find Carl. He got into the crowd of hysteric dancing people and slowly, calmly, scanned all the faces one by one. It didn't take him long to find his prey. He was dancing alone, and he was watching in the opposite direction. Perfect. He snuck behind the young man and again used an impulsive attack. An elbow strike, right on the spine. It was surely a one-hit kill, but just to make sure, he finished him the same way he did to Billy. When the body hit the floor, the Snake looked around to make sure that no-one had witnessed the scene. Somehow, he knew he would hear a girl voice soon, and...

"Aleksey ?"

The Snake turned to see the girl who had said this name, noticing with unease that he hadn't been called by his real name but by the name he had in his dream. The girl calling him, it was...

"Jessy ?"

No, it was not her. She looked like her in many ways, but she was shorter, a year or two younger, and her haircut was not exactly the same... could it be Violet ? Impossible, Violet didn't exist, she was the girl from his daydream ! He sensed now that something was terribly wrong in this place and he had the scary feeling of losing control of the situation. Worse, he had the impression of being... at the wrong place. As if he was in the Club, but not _really _in the Club. He couldn't clearly define this impression, but it was the first time his cold body had a shiver. He approached the girl, hoping to receive an explanation, but a hand grabbed tapped his shoulder, from behind, and this time it was a male voice he heard:

"I think I am the one you're looking for," the guy said.

The Snake turned round, already expecting to see Tony, but the guy staring at him with his white china-like face and cold smile wasn't Tony. Tony didn't wear a red coat, he didn't carry a cane and he didn't have a dope hat. At this time, what was real and what was not didn't bother him anymore, because he knew that the man facing him was Willy Wonka.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just a little note for cheatachu: what does OMGWTFLOLBBQ mean ?


	16. Black Heart part 1: Stairway to Hell

Here is the next chapter. This one was very tiresome to write, I still can't believe I made it. Not much action in this one, it's primarily focused on Veruca. I hope it won't be as painful to read.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Outside, into the SAS communication tent, Mr Teavee was finishing his hazardous work of art, with a good number of soldiers around, who were wondering if that thing could _really _work: Mr Salt's cell phone was now connected by wires to the electronic components of a dismantled pocket calculator, which were connected to a dozen of nine-volts batteries, which were connected to a home-made antenna, and all this pirate network was connected to a laptop computer Mr Teavee was working on. A soldier looked over the man's shoulder and hardly tried to understand something in all the complicated code lines displayed on the monitor. He asked:

"Is it... is it really your son who taught you that ?"

"Hard to believe, right ?" Mr Teavee replied. "He's a genius. A real genius. He built his own console which is able to run games from seven different video-game systems. He could do what I just did with his toes while eating an apple."

At this moment, Mr Salt burst into the tent, visibly intrigued by what was happening.

"So what's going on here ?"

"Glad to see you, Henry," said Mr Teavee. "You're just in time, I was about to make a test."

"What is all this mess for ?"

"I think I found a way to use the Factory's operator test line to establish a communication with the inside, thus countering the magnetic field that disrupts normal communications. Don't forget to thank Mike when they'll be all out of here. With this, we can call your mercenary on his cell phone. But it's not been tested..."

"Well, time to see if it works..."

Mr Teavee came back to the computer and typed fast on the keyboard while mumbling: "Test Line Operator One Open... Test Line Operator Two Open... Connection Operator, Execute Command... Connection Successful. Attempt Connection Factory Line ? y/n."

The teacher sighed heavily and said in a theatrical manner: "Bring it on..."

And he typed _y_. On the screen, a progression bar bearing the mention _Connecting..._ appeared, and the screen of the cell phone emitted a flickering blue light. Mr Salt took it in his hand, taking care of not breaking the wires, and examined it hesitantly.

"It's attempting to connect," explained Mr Teavee. "When your screen stops flickering, the connection will be stabilized and we'll be able to make a call. It's working, Henry. Our kids will be safe soon."

_Okay... take it easy, girl... there must be a way out... at least there's little chance to meet a trap in this place... _that's what Veruca was telling herself as she made her way through the basement. She had quickly understood that the maintenance passage was a real labyrinth. Apparently, Wonka was incapable of doing things simply: there were crossroads every twenty meters, and as she had absolutely no landmark to start from, the girl had to pick directions at random. It would've been easier if all the corridors of that eerie basement didn't look exactly the same, narrow passages made of plain grey, nude concrete. There wasn't even an arrow painted on the wall to follow, and even if there was one, she would've been incapable of following it, for it was too dark to distinguish a damn thing. Now she had reached a corridor longer than the others. She had already made about forty meters without crossing an intersection. Was it a good thing or a bad thing ? She didn't know, but she felt more and more oppressed. It seemed to get darker at each step, and far away in front of her she could perceive a weak but deep purring, accompanied with an occasional loud metallic clinking that echoed through the hallway. According to its sound, there was no doubt it was a big machine, maybe some kind of generator, but it didn't comfort her at all: first, it was a deep sound echoing through the dark, which was already quite worrying by itself, but it also did something that she absolutely hated, it increased as she progressed. She just couldn't stand the idea of approaching something, of hearing something approach, without being able to see it. Anxiety pressed on her chest, and her breathing became a little harder. And her forehead and underarms were already wet. She was even getting afraid of her own footsteps now. To try to calm herself down, she opened her mouth and her hoarse voice began reciting a little rhyme from her younger years:

_I am the one who walks alone,_

_And when I'm walking a dark road_

_At night or strolling through the park._

_When the light begins to fade,_

_Sometimes feel a little strange,_

_A little anxious when it's dark._

To her great satisfaction she realized that her little song worked, as she felt not more confident but at least less scared. Now, on for the second verse:

_Have you run your fingers down a wall,_

_And have you felt your neck skin crawl,_

_When you're searching for the --_

She stopped. Wait a minute... searching for the _light _! Of course, how could she be so stupid ! She checked in her purse with fast nervous moves and finally found what she was looking for, a small metallic tube that looked like a plain ball-point pen, but when she pushed a tiny button, a beam of light gleamed from the tip of the pen. It was more a gadget than a real flashlight, but at least she could now see where she was going. She could see the end of the corridor. About fifty meters ahead, she could distinguish a bend going to the right. Maybe it was the exit ? Thrilled by the perspective, Veruca rushed straight ahead but stopped after a few meters, out of breath. She now understood that the pressure on her chest and the sweat were not caused by anxiety, it was simply the air around that was so hot and thick, as if she was breathing through a boiled sponge. If she had a mirror, she could've seen her cheeks turning dark pink. What was causing so much heat ? The memory of the notice she had read before then came back to her mind, and she wondered if the furnaces were really shut off. And finally, she decided she didn't want to think about it, and she kept walking until she reached the bend. Here it was so hot that she took off her coat and carried it under her arm instead. It didn't change many things though, because the jumper she wore under her dress was still too warm to be comfortable. Oh, well, she might get used to it after all.

The corridor after the bend was a dead end, but there was a door at each side of the girl. The door on the right wall was a brown copper door bearing the mention _Garbage Disposal Facility: Power and Maintenance_. The mechanic purring seemed to come from this room. It was louder than ever, and now she could hear quite distinctly a sound that seemed to come from a giant washing machine, the powerful whisper of industrial air conditioners and the rotating noise of a dynamo, indicating that there was definitely a huge machinery in there. The door on the left wall was a massive iron gate, very unwelcoming, bearing the mention _Garbage Disposal Facility: Core Entrance_ and just below, in red: _Warning, it's hotter than a kebab oven, here_. Puzzled, Veruca considered the notice for a few seconds, thinking that even her so British sense of humor couldn't get the joke. It was just everything but funny. This door looked quite scary, that's why she chose the right door instead.

As soon as she opened the copper door, a gust of dry hot wind rushed to her with a strong whistling and pulled her hair backwards. She entered and shut the door behind her, but the wind didn't stop, it kept playing with her hair and the skirt of her dress, but that didn't bother her much. On the contrary, although the wind was warm, it gave her a nice refreshing sensation compared to the suffocating hot corridor. She looked around, and was invaded by a comforting impression of familiarity: the room was large and high, with large grids on the wall opposite to the door. Behind these grids Veruca could distinguish the swinging of the massive ventilators that blew all this wind. In the middle of the room was a large brown dynamo that looked like an oversized 9-volts battery laid down horizontally. This was certainly the noisest machine, its loud humming covered the hissings of steam rejected by the pipes running across the walls and the ceiling, the washing machine sound of power distribution units mounted on scaffolds, the beeps of the different monitors installed here and there, and even the wind gusts. There was so much power in the generator that Veruca could see it vibrating, as if it was struggling to unleash all its energy over the place. It was impressive, but not scary at all. On the contrary, it was reassuring. The girl liked this place, for it was extremely similar to the underground generator in her father's factory. Mr Salt didn't know that everytime his daughter accompanied him to the factory and disappeared to "play around," she would actually go down to the basement and hide in the generator room. She always had a strong affection for that room, and it was exactly for the same reason that made her feel safe this day, in this particular place of Wonka's Factory: it was warm, it had cool air that tickled her cheeks, it was noisy, and the biggest difference it had from the rest of the basement is that it had _light_ ! All the room was plunged into a red light which, though not being of the perfect brightness, allowed to see the room in all its details without leaving any part in the shadow. Oh, she would like so much to stay in peace in this place, but she had to remember that the only safe place was out of the Factory, and she had to move on. And the first thing to do was to explore the room.

She began by moving towards the closest monitor, watching carefully not to trip on those large unbreakable wires on the floor. It displayed a lot of rather useless informations about the status of the generator, the temperature of the blast furnace, the amount of garbage recycled, or the energy produced by the furnace. Energy produced ? For a second, the girl wondered what that energy was for as there was already a powerful dynamo here, but then she decided that she couldn't care less. She couldn't get anything interesting from the monitor, she decided to check something else. She took the way between the generator and the wall with the ventilators, where the wind was strongest. As she walked along the passage, she noticed a large pannel on the side of the generator, at arm range, with buttons, levers and multicolor shining dots. The control pannel ! _Maybe I could shut it all off, and it would be over... _looking back at the pannel, it didn't seem such a great idea: although she was quite familiar with all the hardware, she had never manipulated before, and to her this control pannel was a total confusing mess. There was not even a notice indicating where was the main power lever. What if she pushed the wrong button ? Anything could happen. And if she found the right one and shut off the power, the Factory could still trigger an emergency system, or go on self-destruction. She had watched too many bad science-fiction movies to ignore the possibility. She wished Mike was here with her. Mike would know what to do. _Nevermind, girl,_ _try something else, I'm sure you'll find_.

On the wall, the ventilator grids were situated about three meters over her head. Below them, at her level, there were a large map and... a wall phone ! Great, she rushed to it and picked up the receiver. She heard a cracking in it. There was reception ! She hurried to dial her father's number, only to find out that there was no dial of any sort. _What the ? _Then she understood when she read the small notice beside the phone: _Emergency Internal Line_. In other words, it could call only inside the Factory.

"Fuck !" she shouted as she tossed the receiver against the wall in a sudden access of anger. It's a word she would normally never use, but it was the first time she experienced real frustration instead of her usual puerile whimps, and it just flew out of her mouth. How, come, she wasn't visiting the Queen after all, she could say whatever she wanted. It's not as if her composure could be of any use... so, to sum up, the generator shutdown was a bad idea, and the phone call was also a bad idea. After all, there were not so many things she could do here except search for the exit, so she finally decided to consult the big map on the wall. At first, she felt completely lost, since the map was a complex representation of all the corridors, accesses and rooms of Basement 11, along with a detailled plan of all the pipes and cables that ran through the garbage disposal facility, all this forming a somewhat abstract wireframe picture which you could hardly guess it was actually a map. She wasn't an expert, but for what she could tell, this place was more than a garbage disposal facility. There were just too many things for just that. After a few seconds passed scanning the map, she finally found her position, represented by a red spot with the mention _You are in serious trouble_. What ? Not sure of what she just read, the girl closed her eyes and shook her head before opening them again. The mention was _You are here_. It was better.

_Damn, my mind is playing tricks now. I must get out of there before I become insane_. For a moment, the thought of a surgery room with a Wonka-like doctor holding up a scalpel crossed her mind, but she chased it away quickly, thanks to the noise. Anyway, now she had a landmark from which she could start her research. The room she was in had the caption _Aux. Gen_. What, auxiliary generator ? So there was one even bigger somewhere ? There was also some kind of tunnel entrance in this room, apparently situated behind the generator. It had the caption _Org. Disp. Mtn_. According to the printing she saw on the copper door, she guessed _Mtn _meant Maintenance, but _Org. Disp. _? She had not a clue about this. Her eyes then came to the location of the massive iron gate she saw earlier. It led to one very big room that took three quarters of the map and that bore in full letters this time: _Blast Furnace_. So this was the core of the garbage disposal facility, where the squirrels would've thrown her if the Snake didn't interfere... interesting, but she wasn't eager to explore it, she didn't want to "become a giant hot-dog" as someone said with the finest humor. The only problem, she just realized it, was that there was a small square drawn on the map with a little arrow pointing up and the mention _Elv_. No doubt possible, it was an elevator going up... but the furnace room was between her and this exit. If she wanted to avoid this room, she would have to come back to the labyrinthic corridor network and follow the one that by-passed it to the elevator... which represented a long walk in the dark where she would have all the chances to get lost again. She tried to check for another way, but the only other exits were a stairway leading up to Basement 10 that was located a bit further from the elevator and that could be accessed only by by-passing the furnace from the other side (which was not better) and another stairway situated completely at the opposite of the map that led down to Basement 12, which she had no reason to visit. It was definitely not her lucky day. However, now that she was looking more attentively at the furnace room, she noticed a net of thick lines going from different points of the room and crossing each others. Following these lines could lead in every corner of the room... of course, they were bridges ! After all, why would there be a door if you couldn't get in without being charred ? It was simple, there were bridges overhanging the blazing inferno for people to walk through safely. She had her way out ! Just one thing to check, first... she knew the proverb "curiosity killed the brat," but she thought it wouldn't be long or dangerous. She just wanted to know where that tunnel behind the generator led. She followed it with her finger to arrive at a separate section in the Blast Furnace, some kind of room inside the room, like a pod, that had the mention _Organic Disposal System_. So there was a different treatment for organic and non-organic material, but what the Hell could it be ? She scanned every other indication she could see, but it didn't help. It only remained for her to check that mysterious tunnel herself. She knew it was a somewhat stupid loss of time, but she couldn't help, that thing with the Organic Disposal System had something disturbing, it had raised her curiosity and now she _needed_ to see it closer. She walked away from the map after making sure that she had memorized the most important things, then skirted around the dynamo to reach its back, where the tunnel entrance was supposed to be.

She discovered, behind the generator, a square grid on the wall, at her level, about one meter large, with a bright green light on its upper left corner. It was too dark behind the grid to see anything. She approached it carefully, but tripped on something heavy and soft and fell on the ground with a resounding "Aouch !"

She got up quickly and looked behind at the obstacle: it was a large pillow-shaped plastic bag, the kind of bag used in gardening to transport compost. Judging by its size, it weighed at least twenty-five kilos. There were many other similar bags gathered at the right of the tunnel entrance, around three large black drums connected to the wall by thin pipes that looked just like giant straws. What was all that stuff for ? The plastic bags all had the same notice printed on them: _Fertilizer NH4NO3_. She was puzzled. First, any normal person would have reasons to wonder what bags of fertilizer were doing in a machine room, but for Veruca it was more than that: one day, when she was a few years younger, her parents had to go to a party and left her alone in the property with the personel. Deprived from her favorite "whimp receiver" (that's to say her father), the little girl had spent the day wandering around, bored to death, to finally arrive in the greenhouse. The gardener was an old gentle man who looked like Alfred from _Batman_, and he kindly welcomed her in his universe and let her discover its wonders, the plants and flowers he called his babies. Now that she thought back about it, she came to realize that it was the first time she had really enjoyed an activity. She had learnt many things during this afternoon in the greenhouse, including the different kinds of fertilizers. And the NH4NO3 which she had in front of her eyes was ammonium nitrate, a powerful fertilizer used for intensive farm produce. It made its presence here even weirder. And what about the drums ? She approached one of them and raised the lid a few centimeters to see its content. The liquid inside seemed to be green, but with the red light, it looked black. But God how it stinked ! Its strong scent of decomposing grass made her all dizzy. She quickly closed the lid before her stomach decided to rebel. According to the pipe coming out of the drum, this poison was going inside the wall, where it would probably follow the tunnel to the Organic Disposal System. Curious to know what this liquid really was, she knelt down to check the drum's body for an inscription, and she absent-mindedly leant on the tunnel's grid. Big mistake ! As soon as her hand made contact with the steel grid, the poor girl yelled in pain and jumped away to land on her butt a few feet away. She had just felt as if all the muscles and organs of her body had a violent contraction all at the same time, and now that they were relaxed, all her articulations felt slightly numb. She had been electrocuted by the grid !

She slowly stood back on her feet, slowly recovering and cursing this damned place where definitely nothing was harmless. Why did it need to be electrified in the first place ? As she examined it closer (being extremely careful not to touch it again), she noticed that under the green light there was a lever with a lightning drawn on it, indicating that it was the power control. Near it, on the wall, another notice:

_Organic Disposal System Maintenance Procedure:_

_- Changing the GH Water feed: turn the valve behind the pipes clockwise to stop the drawing up. Raise the pipes and change the empty drums by full drums. Re-install the pipes and turn the valve counter-clockwise to resume the drawing up. TO BE DONE ONCE A WEEK._

The girl looked at the drums. So the liquid was GH Water. But what did GH stand for ? Growth Hormones ? This didn't make sense, except if there was some kind of mutant freak around to feed. Which, once considered seriously, was not a pretty reassuring idea. She looked at the second part of the notice:

_- Fertilizer feeding: turn out power and open the grid. Empty one bag of fertilizer in the chute. Close the grid. TO BE DONE ONCE A FORTNIGHT. /!\ DO NOT FORGET TO TURN POWER BACK ON WHEN YOU'RE FINISHED /!\ _

Okay, so there was something inside that needed fertilizer and growth hormones and that was kept cautiously behind electric grids. To the girl's despair, the theory of the mutant freak was getting more and more serious. To try to see it by herself, she approached her head, as close to the grid as she could without touching it. She couldn't distinguish a thing behind it, it was even darker than the corridors. However, she distinctively heard something coming from the depth of that tunnel, something that even the ambient cacophony couldn't cover and that made her eyes grow twice their size: a slow deep growl that no animal or machine on Earth could produce. She immediately jerked away from the grid and tripped on the fertilizer bag again.

The second after, and without even realizing it, she was back in front of the copper door. It was as if the sudden fright had allowed her nerves to take control of her body to make her run like Hell to the exit. She was calm now, and she told herself that her nerves were right, for she had nothing to do in this room anymore. She put her hand on the handle but she stopped to have a last look at the room. Now, the comforting noise and red light would be gone, and she would be back in the corridors to explore another unknown part of the basement. She looked at the imposing generator with a sort of reluctance to leave it.

_Bye, Big G._, she thought as she opened the door and returned to the obscure hallway. For a few seconds she was caught unaware by its pitch blackness before she remembered to turn on her light. She was now in front of the massive iron door that led to the Blast Furnace that led to the black heart of the Factory. _Time to go, girl... _she put her hand on the handle and was not much surprised at how hot it was. It didn't burn, though, merely irritated her skin. She pushed the door wide open. In front of her, there was a very narrow corridor, so narrow that two people couldn't enter side by side, and a metallic stairway going down to a passage plunged in a strong orange light, like a burning fire, but this passage was so far from her that it seemed like a small orange dot, way under her position, at the end of a stairway that looked almost infinite. Courageously, Veruca put her foot on the first stair and began her long descent.

The weak wooden stairs creaked at each step, but Charlie was now used to that sound. He was still in that damn staircase he had been descending for ages, and he still couldn't see its end. He couldn't see its beginning anymore now. He could see four or five stairs ahead, four or five stairs behind, and that was all. All the rest was in the darkest shadow, as if nothing actually existed beyond those few old wooden stairs, except this regular sound of water that seemed to come both from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Even time itself didn't seem to exist anymore: Charlie couldn't tell if he'd been descending for seconds, minutes, or even hours. And his mother was now silent.

"Mommy ?" he called. "Am I nearly arrived ?"

_Yes, dear, _replied the soft female voice, _only a few meters left. Hold on, big boy !_

The voice, it was close, very close ! Smiling in excitement, the young boy rushed down the staircase. At each stair he passed, another one appeared in front of him, and another one disappeared behind him. His visibility was then never reduced and never enlarged.

_Hold on, big boy ! Hold on, big boy !_

The voice sounded closer everytime it repeated that. Finally, he arrived at its level... and he didn't expect that at all: he had not arrived, the stairway seemed as endless as before. But there was now a small red audiotape recorder laying down on a stair. Through the machine's transparent side, Charlie could see the two turning circles of a tape being played, as the tiny loudspeaker spread the mother's voice accompanied with minute cracklings:

_Hold on, big boy ! Hold on, big boy !_

The young boy blushed, he was about to explode, but he managed to contain his furious disappointment. A trick ! He had spent all this time in the dark stairway following a mere tape recorder when he believed he would find Mommy and Veruca ! Calmly, he picked up the small red machine and examined it. It... looked familiar. It looked exactly like his father's recorder. He shut it off, so as not to hear that voice again. He then let his anger go as he dropped the machine on the stair and crushed it with his foot, roaring, until it remained nothing of it but a hardly recognizable mess of red plastic and copper. Wow, it was surprising how good it felt. Now that he had made all this way, he had to finish. These stairs had to end somewhere, after all. Determined, he put his foot on the next stair and resumed his climbing. He didn't pay any attention to the fact that he was now ascending instead of descending. He had not turned back. The stairs had not changed direction at a floor. They had just been descending all the way, and now they were ascending as if they had _always_ been ascending. Charlie didn't even notice the shift as he climbed up to soon perceive a glimpse of pale blue light that progressively revealed to be the entrance of a room under the moonlight. He quickly covered the dozen of meters remaining and was soon at the doorway of the moonlit room. He did it at last ! With a heavy sight of relief, he passed the last stair.

The thin metallic floor tinkled lightly as Veruca put her feet on it. She stairs' descent had been almost endless, but now she was in the Blast Furnace. The first thing that caught her was the extreme heat: not a single inch of her skin was dry. Her stockings and jumper were sticking uncomfortably to her body, her hair felt like glued to her head, and she had the nasty impression that her slippers were filled with water. She was sweating so much that she even had to rub water off her eyes frequently to see clearly. And her breathing was slow and heavy, because even the air she expired felt like water. It was not air that came out of her mouth, it was steam. _That's infernal,_ she thought, _it must be eight thousand degrees here ! _Of course she knew she was exagerating, but still, it was almost unbearable. But she quickly understood as she took a look around. It was purely amazing. If Hell did exist, here was what it would look like: first, the room was huge, so huge that the opposite end where the exit was looked all blurry to her. She was standing on a bridge running from one end to the other, following the wall. There was another bridge in parallel, following the opposite wall. The two bridges were connected by two other bridges near the middle. The ceiling was ten meters over her head. Veruca leant over the banister to have a look at the bottom. About sixty or seventy meters under her feet was burning a gigantic lake of melting metal that produced the orange light which radiated all over the place. If she ever fell in, she would be charred to the bone even before touching the liquid steel. The idea was far from comforting. There were many different devices which use was unknown to the girl that were working very close to the liquid, installed on heat-resisting platforms. Midway between the lake and the bridge, massive air coolers were releasing cold breezes that would condensate in contact with the heat and form a light red haze over the upper part of the facility. In the middle of the room, between the connection bridges, a serie of heat-resisting cables as large as the chimneys in her house were hanging from the ceiling and had their end soaked in the burning lake. According to the captions Veruca had read on the map, she identified these cables as the power conductors, that would assimilate the energy created by the foundry to bring it to the main generator of the Factory which was situated in a higher floor, the Basement 10 in all logic. There were also two large pipes, a blue and a red, that were sticking out of the ceiling. The blue one had an open end, so that everything that came from it would immediately fall in the lake. Again, according to the map, Veruca identified this pipe: it was the material garbage chute. Any non-organic waste would fall by this chute to be instantly melted down in the foundry. The red pipe was split into two, and each extremity led to a large black iron pod situated at each end of the room, between the main bridges. Each pod was like a fully independent room inside the room, which only openings seemed to be that red pipe and a large porthole on their roof. Veruca already knew what the pod closest to her was for, it was the Organic Disposal System, that mysterious "system" that needed fertilizer to work. It seemed that the organic garbage came by the red pipe and arrived into the pods to be "treated", and then the remains would be ejected from the pods to be melted down in the foundry and produce even more energy. At the end, it was a perfect closed circuit: all the garbage was melted down to feed the generator, thus giving the Factory its own independent source of energy. And with all the steel melting down, Wonka had enough material to build massive hardware himself. He could live in almost complete autarky. She already knew before that the deal was serious, but only know did she realize the power of her kidnapper. But why the Hell were there two different pods ? The map was unclear about that, but it seemed that the one closest to her was for "Organic Garbage", whereas the one at the opposite end was for "Organic Waste". But what was the concrete difference, she didn't know. Maybe it was simply that "Garbage" was edible and "Waste" was not. _Oh, come on, _she told herself, _you're just scaring yourself for nothing_. But the theory was indeed serious. After all, the growl she had heard coming from the pod made it clear that there was a living being inside, possibly a mutant monster designed to devor everything it could, letting only the carbonate parts that would burn in the lake of fire. But if it was the right theory, what happened in the "Waste" pod ? After considering the question, the girl decided that she didn't want to know. After all, she would just pass through this room and take the elevator to the surface, so why caring about those pods she would never visit ?

A sudden violent tremor followed by a teeth-grinding screech abruptly interrupted the girl's thoughts, as she felt she was losing balance and falling ! By reflex, she reached out her arms to grab the banister, thus releasing the mink coat which she managed to catch between her knees before it disappeared. She looked in front to see that a dozen of meters of the bridge were missing, and the edge of the hole, made weak by this structural problem, had literally bent under the girl's weight, bringing her to this uncomfortable position: she was now lying on a nearly vertical plate of metal, her hands desperately grabbing the banister and her legs tightening the mink coat she didn't want to drop (no way to get rid of such an expensive clothe). She was outstretched and her shoulders began to hurt badly, but if she lost her grip, she would slide out of the bridge and fall in the burning steel. That was a rather tough lesson to teach her to look in front while walking instead of thinking. With an intense effort boosted by the adrenaline, Veruca managed to pull herself back on the firm part of the bridge and stood on her two trembling feet. Once she had recovered from the shock she proceeded to evaluate the situation: the hole was way too large to attempt to jump over it. The only way to pass through the obstacle would be to use the parallel bridge, but the first connection bridge was after the hole. Therefore, the only way she had to access the other bridge was to pass by the dark corridor, which was precisely what she wanted to avoid by talking this way. How ironic ! This was definitely the worst day of her life ! But she just noticed another way: there was a portion of the wall at her level that was projecting over the pit, like a cornice. If she followed it she could pass the pit, but it was barely large enough for a rat. Well, she was trained in ballet dancing, it was an exercise she could do. First, she slipped her coat back on. With the ambient heat it was pure torture to wear it, but she needed her two hands. Then slowly, hesitantly, the girl leant over the hole and put a foot, then the other, on the cornice. She now had her black and her hands stuck on the wall, her legs stretched at max, with only the tip of her toes resting on the cornice. She could hardly keep her balance, trembling as she was, but she proceeded to slide along the wall, very slowly, to get to the other part of the bridge. _Come on, it's quite a short distance. You've done that exercise more than once. _Yeah, that was right, but there had never been a lake of fire under her before, and it changed everything. Whatever happened, she couldn't look below, because she knew that if she saw the fire in which she could so easily fall, she would panick and fall. But have you ever tried to stay focus in such conditions ? It was almost impossible. When she arrived midway, a mechanic buzz made her freeze instantly: a one-meter tall robot, flying in the air using two small rockets and equipped with four thin metal arms that looked like pincers, arrived, passed beside the girl who was sticking to the wall as if she wanted to become a part of it, and stopped in front of the destroyed part of the bridge. Its head, which only consisted of a gleaming blue orb, proceeded to explore it as if it was filming it. She had not noticed them, but there were actually many of these metal flies patrolling around, all excepted this one were in the lowest part of the room. What were these ? Security, maintenance units ? The robot then moved right in front of the girl and pointed its blue eye on her face. She had instinctively closed her eyes, but she could still feel the blue light scanning her face. What would it do to her ? She unvoluntarily scrunched her toes, and two very small pieces of rubble fell from the cornice. The robot didn't notice. She felt the blue light leaving her face, and when she opened her eyes she saw it was flying away. She sighed in relief. That was close. She proceeded to move on, but as she made the next step, it was not rubble but a full piece of the cornice that broke ! Veruca couldn't contain a loud panicked scream when she lost balance and fell, but she had the good reflex to grab the cornice with her hands. Now she was dangling over the pit in a position that was not better than before. How silly she had been to absolutely want to take this way, out of a childish fear of the dark ! She heard the buzz again. The metal fly, attracted by the noise, was coming back. She was facing the wall, she couldn't see it stopping behind her, but she felt its presence. Then she heard a thin metallic whistling as two of its thin arms approached her and stopped at each of her sides. She could see they ended in a form of stiff fingers. The "fingers" passed under her coat and dug in her stretched ribcage. Then, to the girl's greatest horror, they began to vibrate. She felt as if electric jolts were sent through her body and she struggled to prevent herself from laughing. The machine was tickling her ! Guessing that it was a way to force her to move, she tried her best to stay motionless, but couldn't contain some choked giggles as she was being tortured. She thought she could resist well, but when the tickling fingers moved to her armpits, she totally broke in hysteric screams while kicking in the air. The tickling immediately stopped and the two arms proceeded to tighten around her waist, and then the robot flew away, dragging her with it. She felt like a cuddly toy being grabbed by a pincer in an amusement park. She was flying over the furnace with nothing to do to break free. She was at the robot's total mercy, and the robot knew what to do: she had moved and laughed, therefore she had been identified as a living being that had nothing to do here and that had to be disposed of. The metal fly stopped one meter over the porthole of the Organic Garbage Disposal pod. The porthole opened. The robot released its catch and the little girl fell helplessly in the pod where she landed on a soft ground. Veruca rolled over and over and finally managed to stand on her knees. The soft ground seemed to be made of a thick muggy grass that turned her stomach. It was dark inside the pod and the air was hot and wet, like in a tropical forest, and stinked of compost. She looked over her head: the porthole was closed, and it was situated five meters over her head. She had to climb to it and leave ! Behind her, she heard a growl that gave her goosebumps. It was the same growl as in the tunnel, only now it was louder... stronger... closer... wait, she was _inside _the pod of the growling monster ! And what she heard was coming from... just behind her ! Feeling frozen despite of the heat, she turned back so slowly that it seemed like years. She turned back and saw it...

_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh !_

Charlie stiffened, all his senses on alert. That scream he just heard... a high-pitched, female scream, but it seemed so powerful, so inhuman. The person who produced that had to die of sheer terror. It sounded like Veruca's voice ! The young boy approached his bed. Yes, _his _bed. He couldn't explain that, it was just too strange for him, but he had quickly realized that the room at the end of the stairway was his own bedroom, exactly the way he had left it the morning: the fragile creaking floor, the sagging bed, the Wonka bar wrappers and newspaper cuts nailed on the wall, even the huge hole in the ceiling that let enter the moonlight and a light rain. First he had wondered if he had found some kind of teleporter in the Factory that had brought him back home, and he was about to call his mother when _it_ happened, the scream... he was not sure, but it seemed to come from somewhere outside. That's why he climbed on his bed, to pass his head through the hole and have a perfect view on the streets of the village. Nobody was on the streets, but according to the moon, it had to be pretty late. At first sight, Charlie saw nothing wrong, but then a glimpse of red light caught his eyes and he saw... the Factory ! High red flames were rising between the oversized chimneys. The flames were as big as the chimneys ! The Wonka Factory was on fire !

"Mommy !" he screamed, but nobody replied. The boy jumped out of his bed and searched the floor for the flashlight he used as a bedside lamp. He found it, turned it on, and came back to the stairways. If his parents weren't in the first floor, there were still his grandparents. As they couldn't move, they had be here. Before descending, he pointed his light in front of him, to make sure it wasn't that cursed endless stairway again. He was surprised when the light showed him a human silhouette sitting on the stairs. The silhouette had its back turned towards him, so he couldn't see its face, but he recognized the clothes and the hair, he knew it was his dear Mommy at last ! He wanted to run to her but his instinct told him not to, because something was wrong: his Mommy had her face buried in her hands, and sounded like she was crying. Why ? Did she believe him dead ? But he would show her he was fine, and she would be happy again. Therefore, instead of running he slowly crept down the stairs until he was just behind her.

"Mommy ?" he called softly. She didn't reply. He called again, but still no answer. He gingerly put a head on her shoulder and squeezed it while calling her again. This time she reacted. She raised her head and turned it to face her son.

"Mommy ?" he said again, this time with a voice choked by anxiety. "Mommy ? Mommy ?" his voice sounded more and more panicked at each call. Because the woman who was facing him was not his Mommy. She couldn't be his Mommy. _It _couldn't be his Mommy. No, it was something else, it was...

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just to precise, this chapter was heavily inspired by Silent Hill (the fans of the game will have recognized the generator room growl from the first episode and the endless stairway from the second episode) and a few of Metal Gear Solid, for the Blast Furnace and its dangerous cornice. The little song Veruca recites is _Fear of the Dark_, it was composed by Iron Maiden. Next chapter, focused on the boys, will be more action-based and less descriptive.


	17. Alternate Paths

Wow, it's been quite a while. Connection problems. Whatever. I received some negative response to my previous chapter, for being too descriptive. Yeah, reading it again I realize I have been kinda abusive but I can't help, I love the atmosphere of these dark basements and I wanted to render it as precisely as I could. Anyway, I understand it can bore, I'll try not to do so much again. This one is pretty long too, but is more action oriented, with the return of two long lost characters and some precisions about Alex's past. Hope you like. Warning, it contains some cannibal references and occasional swearing. So if you're a weak heart...

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike, laying on his tummy, hardly managed to raise his chest and push on his elbows. He crawled like a military for a few meters, grimacing with pain, his face red with swollen veins clearly visible on his temples, and fell again face down with a desperate sigh. He was in a ventilation shaft which he'd been following for God knows how long, and now he was exhausted, as he finally understood the biggest and most important difference between reality and video games: in games, it _always _looks easy to crawl in a ventilation shaft, in reality it's another deal. And his arm, it was so painful ! He looked at it, his left arm: the red sleeve had a big hole below the shoulder, from where emanated a thin white smoke smelling like charred pork. He had looked a few minutes before at his skin through that hole, and even a hardcore bloody game player like him was shocked, mostly, he thought, because it was the first time he saw a real bad burn: most of the skin of his arm had taken the brown color and the aspect of a roasted steak. And, damn, he didn't know it hurted so much ! He looked at his watch, on his right wrist: the face was black as coal, clearly indicating that it was completely beyond repair. Too bad, he liked that watch, but it saved his life after all: a few moments before, in the tricky "core system", as he was about to be wiped out by the lasers, he had just the time to catch sight of an air vent at the ground's level, just large enough for him to crawl in, and then... he didn't know which game he held this reflex from, but exactly as the lasers were firing, he had raised his fist in front of his face, thinking that the face of his watch would deflect the deadly beam. It had worked... for half a second, just the time needed for the watch to explode. But as short as it was, this spare time had been largely enough for the boy to dive out of laser range, straight into the shaft. He could consider himself extremely lucky to have managed to make such an exploit, which worked everytime in video games but only once upon a thousand times in reality, even if he got hit in the arm by a lost shot in the process. Now, he had made all the way down in that narrow steel tunnel, and according to the number of bends, the distance between each bends and the relative incline of the shaft, he could tell he was exactly one hundred and seventy-five meters away from the "Core" and fifty meters below. He couldn't tell for sure, but he thought he had reached another basement. Now it was only left to him to find the real central computer. _That's easy_, said a little voice in his head, _just find Willy Wonka and the central computer will be right next to him_. Oh, funny. Very funny. He had to move on, anyway, so he gathered all his courage remaining and crawled. It didn't take him long to find a grid looking down. If there was such a grid, it meant he was in the ceiling of a room. At last, he could see what was happening outside. Maybe he would recognize the room or at least find a clue on where he was. He approached the grid, looked through it... and looked away while containing a violent need to vomit. He struggled with his stomach for a few seconds, and unsure about what he had really seen, he slowly looked back at the grid and forced himself to watch, as his instinct was madly ordering him not to look at this grotesque vision. _Holy shit... Holy... _it was definitely not what he had hoped for. He decided to keep on crawling quickly or he would go crazy.

"What are you doing here ?" asked the Snake. Around them, the music and the people miraculously went on low volume to allow them to speak comfortably. It was as if they were inside a movie, where Snake and Wonka were the focus and all the rest was just a background, which couldn't in any way interfere with the focus. It seemed so unreal...

"Excuse me, boy, do we know each others ?" asked the chocolatier.

"We're not supposed to. You are... you only appeared in my dream. Just like..." he took a look at Violet, who was as motionless as a puppet. "Just like her," he concluded.

"How come, you don't recognize your own girlfriend ?"

The Snake wasn't eager to play little mind games, and he let the candyman know by baring his teeth and using his threatening "serpentiform" tone:

"Don't messsss with me, Wonka. You know jusssst like me that she issss not Jessifer. She'ssss not even real, neither are you."

The chocolatier wasn't impressed at all by this predatory behavior and replied with the quietness of a psychologist talking to his patient:

"My poor boy, do you even know what is real and what is not here ?"

The Snake didn't reply, for he had actually no answer to this question. Both the Chocolate Factory and this place were completely surrealistic, and now that he had to tell which of the two was real, he just couldn't decide. Only then did he begin to understand what was really wrong with the Club. He turned his head towards Violet and sticked his tongue at her, which immediately confirmed his suspicions: she had no smell. Neither her nor anybody else in the place, not even Willy Wonka. No smell at all. He turned back to the chocolatier and declared:

"This is not real ! We're not in the Club. And she... and you... are not really with me. All of this is fake."

"You're a clever boy. I respect that."

"So what is it ? An illusion ?"

"Let's rather talk about... a manifestation of your conscience."

"I don't really understand."

"Well... I am your conscience."

"My ass ! You kidnap children..."

"And you kill them, am I really worse than you ?"

"What ?"

The candyman let out a soft snigger, and he started walking around his "prey" like a vulture. The Snake was immobile.

"You see, Snake," he explained, "those events did happen. I'm talking about the Club. Remember the twelfth of August. You spent all the summer killing the townfolks, this particular year. You caught them one by one in the middle of the night, always picking those who had something to blame. Like a vigilante, a self-proclaimed protector of the innocents. Some of your victims were barely old enough to drive a car. And it all ended this night, when after a last slaughtering, you ran away. You cowardly turned your back at your life and became what you are today, a pathetic inhumane creature who put his killing skills for sale."

"What are you trying to prove, telling me things I already know ?"

"I brought you back to your past because I felt you had lost sight of reality. Snake, did you really see anything overly harmful or dangerous in my Factory ?"

The mercenary considered the question for a moment. There were the pipe, and the chewing gum, and the garbage chute... but nothing indicated that these were death threats. Yeah, Violet had swollen like a balloon, but it was not as if she had exploded in front of them. And the pipe, the chute, the toxic candy Mike had discovered... they could as well be just bad jokes, to scare them. And the drugs... had he really smelled drugs, or other weird smells ? Even his senses could make a mistake. With the excitement and fear, he had seen what he wanted to see. In conclusion...

"No... nothing," he said. "I saw nothing really dangerous."

"Exactly," replied Wonka. "But your instinct of killer, used as it is to expect danger to come from every corner, made you believe the exact contrary. You lost control in the Nut-Sorting Room, and I ran away because I was afraid of you. Now, you've trained the kids into your paranoid delirium, and now they may be in danger by your fault. Veruca and her daddy trusted you. That was a big mistake."

The Snake froze. He felt his guts wrenching as he perceived a glimpse of horrible understanding.

"So I... I fucked up ?"

"Oh, yeah, you fucked up. Just like you did two years ago, Snake. You see, everytime you try to play the hero, it turns wrong. You don't have what it needs to be a hero, that's what you can't understand. You're a monster, you can't change that. You're only good at doing the evil and hurting people."

The Snake was now devastated. The truth. It was the truth he was just told.

"If you really want to help these kids," finished Wonka, "quit it. Quit it now before it's too late."

He came very close to the Snake, and whispered into his ear:

"Quit it and let me dispose of them as I please."

This time it was too much for the Snake: he punched. Fast, violent and uncontrolled, full not of anger but of sheer cold desire to kill, his fist went straight like a missile into Wonka's face... and hit the air. Wonka was not here anymore. An evil laughter echoed through the club, and for the Snake it seemed that his enemy was both everywhere and nowhere. Everytime he looked in a direction, he believed he saw the candyman in the crowd, and everytime he rushed to him, it was to find nothing. He ended up punching everyone around, but his fists would only pass through the people without touching them. They were illusions, they were not real, and therefore, they couldn't be touched. It was extremely frustrating.

"Good evening, everyone !"

That voice was loud, very loud, the guy who just said that was surely speaking with a microphone. The Snake turned towards the scene, and so did the rest of the crowd: Wonka was there, holding an electric guitar, with a mike in front of him. He had the posture of a rockstar, which was almost comical, because with his red blazer and dope hat, he did really not look like Robert Halford. He seemed to be very comfortable, though.

"Good evening, everyone," he said, "and thank you for coming for this very special night. This is a song that was originally composed by the neighborhood kids, in Cooper Riverside, State of California..."

_Oh, no, _Alex thought, _not that..._

"A song composed during Summer 2003," he continued, "and it's dealing with a real-life monster, a monster who believed he was protecting the widow and the orphan, when all he managed to do was to traumatize his town with an injust and bloody killing rampage, you all know this monster of course. This song is for you, Snake."

Even before the hard rock guitar theme began, the mercenary already dreaded what was about to come. He knew what song he was talking about, and he hated that song. A song that was invented by kids to scare themselves, and that made him pass for a merciless psychotic killer. And as the proverb says, truth comes out of children's mouth. The song began, Wonka had a clear, joyful and slightly raspy singing voice, he sounded like Alice Cooper:

_When the clock's past midnight,_

_You're alone in your cold bed,_

_Dreading His deadly bite,_

_You know He's coming and He hasn't been fed !_

_You wet your pants... you know it's too late._

_A leather-clad Bogeyman,_

_Crawling down to your window,_

_Ready for some rough play, man ?_

_You can see His eyes' evil yellow glow !_

_Now meet your new playmate._

_Nasty bully boy,_

_Don't be so coy,_

_And give a huge last smile,_

_To the cruel black reptile !_

The Snake was on his knee, in a state of semi-consciousness. In front of his eyes he saw all of his murders, one by one, in a sequence rythmed by the music. Then suddenly, there came the sound he was expecting the least: the jingle of his cell phone ! He awoke abruptly, took the phone from his belt and answered. The transmission was of awful quality, it sounded like an old radio used in the middle of a war, but he could hear it nevertheless:

"Snake... hear me ? This is... alt. We're cal... pirated line... gnetic field... okay ?"

"Mr Salt ? Is that you ? Mr Salt, I'm sorry I disappointed you."

"What ? Wh... lking bout ?"

"It was a bad idea to hire me as a bodyguard. I've been too suspicious, and now your daughter's in danger by my own fault. Willy Wonka explained it to me."

"Oh my... urned crazy ? Soldiers came... killed them all ! Wonk... gerous bastard !"

He didn't hear all the words, but he clearly understood there that something killed soldiers as they were about to enter, and also that Wonka was a dangerous bastard. Meanwhile, the rocker chocolatier was attacking the chorus:

_Thought you could get away with murder ?_

_Thought He couldn't ever get you back ?_

_Will be as easy as a knife through butter,_

_So better get ready for the massacre !_

_Thought you could get away like a burglar ?_

_And your sins would never ever be found ?_

_Listen, I'll tell you once and forever..._

_You. Were. Dead... Wrong !_

"Mr Salt," replied a completely disoriented Snake, "I don't know what's going on. He just... knows so many things about me... like my conscience..."

This time, Mr Salt's response passed through the crackings and came to the mercenary's ears as clear as crystal:

_"Mr Aleksey Stoyanovitch, I don't know what kind of drug you've taken, but I pay you to get my daughter out of this maniac's grasp and I do intend to be satisfied or I'll make sure you'll never find any more contract in the whole world, so move your ass and get to work !"_

It was the first time the gentleman really lost his legendary British patience, and it surprised everyone in the tent. He had just said his last word when the communication cut off.

"Snake ?" he screamed on the phone. "Snake !"

No reply. The line was dead.

"We've lost the signal," calmly informed Mr Teavee. "The transmission's interrupted."

Mr Salt ragefully tossed the telephone away.

"It's no use to get mad either, Henry," continued the teacher. "It won't make things progress."

"Sorry," replied the gentleman while regaining his composure. "It seems that everyone is turning crazy in there."

"I know. The signal was unstable. I can attempt another connection, but it might take long. It may even not work."

"Well, just hope that what I said was enough."

Indeed it was. In the depth of the fake night club, the Snake felt like awakened from a long bad dream. The Club was still there, crowded, and Wonka was still playing and singing, but now the Snake was over all of this. It was fake, just fake. Plain hallucinations. _Drug_, that's what his boss said on the phone. Of course, drug. He was undergoing the effect of the drugs he tasted in the Chocolate Room, at the beginning of the Tour, which now seemed like aeons ago. And all of this, the Club, the rocker Wonka, and all, were just the side effects. A bad trip that was about to end. _He called me Aleksey Stoyanovitch, _he repeated to himself. _He called me Aleksey Stoyanovitch..._

He got up and walked to the stage, passing through the people without even feeling them. He arrived as close as he could, and he shouted as much as his reptilian voice was capable of:

"Hey, Wonka !"

The candyman stopped singing, and looked at him in the eyes, with a condescending smile on his face.

"Yes ?"

"If you know everything about me - the way I think, what I did, and all - it won't be a real problem for you to answer one question."

"Go ahead."

"What is my name ?"

"How come on, Aleksey, is that all..."

"No, not this. What is my _real _name ?"

The chocolatier was like paralyzed, this question seemed to him like a kick in the balls. The Snake even noticed a glimpse of panick passing through his eyes. _He doesn't know, _he told himself, _he doesn't know anything about me. Everything he said was crap, he was just trying to trick me._

And suddenly, like by magic, the music stopped, the heat dropped back to the normal Factory's temperature, and all of the people disappeared. Snake and Wonka were alone in the empty Club... and a whole wall was now made of Lickable Wallpaper. The mercenary looked at the wallpaper, then back at his enemy.

"You know what," he said, "it was a nice try, you almost tricked me into your little mind games. Now, I shall return to my mission. There's a girl weighing two hundred thousand pounds who's waiting for me."

And on these final words, he turned and raced to the wallpaper. When he was about to hit it, he protected his head behind his shoulder, gathered all his impulsive energy, and charged. He passed through the wall like a demolition ball through glass. He was out of his bad trip, back to the Chocolate Factory, and he was finally out of that Wallpaper Room. He didn't know at this point what was in store for him, but he knew that whatever happened, he would show no mercy anymore.

"Dammit !" roared Wonka as he punched with anger the keyboard of his computer. It was the first time he was losing his patience. He was still in the Basement 13, which he had actually never left since the kids went by their own. All he had been doing was following their movements with his computer, and he'd been focused on the Snake for quite a time, chatting with him through a loudspeaker which the boy believed was the real Wonka, in the middle of his bad trip. He was sure he would break the Snake and force him to give up with his speech, and now he ascertained with bitter disappointment that he did not. If there wasn't that damn phone call ! He looked at the clock on his monitor: one hour. The kids were running alone for just a little more than one hour now, and they already made him lose patience. Fine, maybe he had enjoyed the situation enough, now it was time to stop playing. The chocolatier moved away from the computer. The machine didn't look in any way larger or more sophisticated than the one used to trap Mike, but still it was definitely the so desired Central Computer. The morality, don't get fooled by the look. The computer was settled on a balcony overhanging a wide circular room, of the same shape as the Nut-Sorting Room but ten times wider, and made of naked pale brown concrete. In the middle of the room, instead of a garbage chute, there was a large square column, each side being about twenty meters large, which actually contained the surgery room. All around that column, everywhere in the room, there were chains hanging from the high ceiling. Each chain ended up in a hook meant to hold large pieces of meat a few centimeters above the ground. It could easily pass for a common meat storage, if the "meat" in question wasn't wrapped in black body bags through which you could still roughly guess the shape of a human body. The chocolatier descended a small set of stairs to arrive on a bridge that ran over the storage to the door of the surgery, on the central colmn, a few meters over the ground. The operation room was actually elevated to ease up the evacuation of liquid wastes. When you looked at the basis of the column, you could see drainpipes running from it to the outside of the storage. And these pipes were not meant to drain water. Wonka opened the door and was back in the familiar heavily lit room with its filthy floor and stainless steel furniture. Mr Wilkinson was still here. He had an earflap and was attentively listening to the latest news from the different checkpoints of the Factory.

"Anything happened while I was busy ?" asked the chocolatier.

"Boss, reports indicate that Miss Salt is stuck in the Furnace. She's about to be recycled."

"By the Monster ? Don't let it happen ! She can't die now."

"I tried, Boss, but there is no personel in this area to administer it with tranquilizer. But she's smarter than it, Boss, she has good chances to make it out alive."

"I hope so. Her damn family caused me much troubles, I don't want her to leave us so easily."

On these words, he moved and stood under a large circular air vent that opened on the ceiling. It was large as three men and was fully open, there was not even a protective grid, because this room was certainly the one that needed air conditioning the most. When they were operating, the room would get hot very fast, and don't even talk about the smell, so they needed fresh air permanently. Even when they were not operating, the room was kept at a tropical heat and the ventilation was supposed to never stop. But right now, the chocolatier only felt a light breeze instead of the rushing air that was supposed to come out of the vent.

"Why isn't the ventilation working properly ?" he asked.

"Mike Teavee."

"What ?"

"Seems like he managed to escape. He's now wandering in the ventilation shaft, and it's obstructing the air circulation."

"He's clever, very clever. Though I really don't see what he could do to reach us."

"You don't seem worried by him, Boss."

"No reason. It's just too much a big deal for a kid, even a bright boy like him. He'll be merely hard to catch. And the others ? Any news ?"

"Yes, I just received a report for Charlie Bucket. He arrived in the nineth basement."

"He found a way to descend five basements in a row ?"

"He used an old maintenance staircase. But it seems he acted strangely, as if he didn't know where he was. I think he's still under drug influence. The last report about Violet Beauregard mentioned that the juicing was ninety per cent complete. I would say there's fifteen minutes left."

"At last ! It was getting long. Ask the Oompa Loompas to prepare the equipment for her. And Gloop ? He should be here already."

"I know, Boss, but it takes longer than expected. The chocolate has hardened around his body, and it's as hard as these walls. The Oompa Loompas still haven't found how to free him..."

At this moment, the surgeon's earflap emitted a small beep.

"Yes ?" he asked. He listened to the answer, and a smile drew on his face. When it was over, he came back to his boss and said: "Good news. They can open Gloop's cocoon with an experimental laser. The operation won't take more than five minutes."

"So everything is going as planned, except with that mercenary who managed to break out of my..."

"I wouldn't think so, Boss. When he passed through that wall, he didn't know what he would find on the other side."

"What do you mean ?"

"Guess where he fell..."

Aleksey finally landed on a flat ground. He landed heavily, though, and the shock cut his breath for a few seconds. When he had run through the wall, it was to arrive in a very sloping, almost vertical slippery tunnel that made him slide uncontrolled to finally arrive... where was he again ? He looked around his new space: wide, circular, with a very high ceiling. It looked like... a pit. The walls were pale grey and white, they were extremely soft but also unpleasantly sticky. They seemed to be made of millions of delicate strings connected to each others in a complex and impenetrable net. Wait a minute, it looked like... the Snake sticked out his tongue again and tasted the air. It had the strong smell of old abandoned attics. Spider web ! These walls were all covered of spider web ! Would that mean... he raised his look to try to see the ceiling. He saw the hole through which he came, fifteen meters over his head. The ceiling was way higher than that, and it bore six spotlights that emitted a blinding white light. There was also a large shadow, that seemed to be sliding down a wall, slowly, calmly. As it closed by, it became more and more precise, and soon it made no doubt that it was an oversized spider crawling down its web to greet the newcomer. _Oh, God, _the mercenary thought, _God it's ugly..._ the thing was a black widow, it was easily recognizable with its smooth black body and its oversized abdomen with the characteristic red stain. The body was about four or five meters large, ridiculously small compared to that nine-meter large abdomen. In overall, the monstrous animal was around thirteen-meter large, without counting the paws: six thin pointed paws of about seven meters each, and two much longer ones pointing in front, twelve meters each with sickle-shaped ends. The colossal arachnid arrived at the boy's level and considered its prey with its shiny emotionless eyes that looked like eight big black pearls. An acid green slobber poured between its saw-like mandibles.

For Alex, both the human and the snake in him felt horribly powerless. He had never had such an opponent before, and his animal instinct wasn't made for fighting spiders ten times bigger than himself. _Calm, boy, _he thought, _remember, you're supposed to show no mercy. _That was easier to think than to do. Once, he had seen Russian battletanks destroying everything on their path, and they were way less intimidating than that. The Widow raised its front paws. The Snake instinctively stepped back. It was testing him. He was in its web, and it wanted to make sure it wouldn't run away. The mercenary took his combat whip and swung it in front of the threat, making it crack loudly in the air. The spider was not impressed at all. He then tried to hit it and striked at random. The whip winded around one of the front paws. The Widow jerked the paw... strongly enough to lift the Snake from the ground and throw him against an opposite wall. He quickly stood up, a bit groggy but not hurt: the thickness of the spider web had well cushioned the impact. He retrieved his whip while the Widow was turning towards him. It was moving slowly, but as it was facing him, it rushed at a surprising speed, its front paws raised and its mandibles fully open, in attack mode.

_Come on, Snake, you can do better than that ! Get on attack mode too ! _That's what he did: he opened his mouth and outstretched his forked tongue, producing that particular hiss, as his cheeks opened to enlarge his smile to the ears, like a furious Halloween pumpkin, baring all his teeth, and two long curved vicious poison stings popped out of a muscle in his palate to settle behind his upper fangs. At this point, he looked more like a snake than a human boy, and once again, the instinct was taking over the mind. _Monsters collide. It's a primal battle, kill or be killed, it's Nature's choice... _and as he thought that, the two mutants went in contact.

Mike hesitantly rested his feet on a solid blue pipe and pulled himself up. He wasn't very confident, the poor boy had never been very good at gymnastics. And he didn't know where he was. He had followed the shaft until he heard a propeller rotating somewhere not far from him, and he decided not to go further, he didn't want to be sliced by the blades like a pizza. So he had left through the first vent he found, and now he was in a forest of blue pipes, that looked like steam or water pipes. From where he was, he could see a part of the wall and a very small part of the floor a few meters below. It seemed that all the room was painted blue. And apparently, it was only one part of a much larger room, as he could hear sounds of cranes or conveyor belts, along with orders shouted in an unknown language, coming from behind the pipes. Were there people out there ?

Cautiously, the young boy proceeded to climb down, cursing his lack of attendance at gym class. Being the little brain boy he was, he preferred doing maths or pirating the school computers instead. But, hey, he was quite physical for a nerd, and he eventually managed to climb on the last pipe before the floor. From his new position, there was no more pipe between him and the rest of the room, and he could see what was going on. It was breathtaking.

The large blue room, equipped like a normal factory, with scaffolds, conveyor belts, and different kinds of noisy machines, was much less colorful than the rooms they visited before. Of course, the bright paradisiac rooms were only intended at luring the kids, now it was the real thing Mike was seeing now. Or at least, one very small part of the real thing. A group of Oompa Loompas wearing work safety helmets in addition to their bright jumpsuits were gathered near the middle of the room. Over their head, a crane was slowly putting down a very large piece of chocolate, of human size, with a rather gross human shape. The shape and size of a teenager, roughly. A rather fat teenager... wait a minute... Augustus ! It had to be him !

The crane finally released the imprisoned boy in the middle of the Oompa Loompas. Then another machine popped from the ceiling a few meters away. It was a laser, no doubt about that, the shape was almost identical to the ones that nearly killed him a few moments before. But it meant they were about to disintegrate the fat kid ! He had to stop it ! _Think, Mike, think ! _An idea, maybe if the pipes were... he examined the one he was sitting on until he found a valve, with the mention: _Water coolant. Used for chilling experimental laser and other machines. High pressure._ So it was water... perfect. He took the tazer his father had given him. That was a chance he had it. It would lose most of its power when used on water, but these Oompa Loompas looked small enough to be affected. He grabbed the valve with both hands, and with a growl he abruptly turned it to open the pipe. With a deafening sound close to thunder, high-pressured water rushed into the room, so violently that the Oompa Loompas were blown away. Mike was quite satisfied, but the freaky dwarves were stronger than they looked, and most of all they were pretty good swimmers: they quickly came back to the surface and headed towards the boy with apparently unpeaceful intentions. They were swimming very fast, like pirahnas, even if they were against the current ! But the bright boy had a surprise for them... he put the small metallic tongues of his tazer in the water and switched the weapon on. There was a hiss, and for a second the Oompa Loompas were surrounded by sparks before floating motionless, like dead fish. Wow, it worked ! Even his genius mind had a doubt, but it did work ! Now that the danger was eliminated, he turned the valve again to stop the flooding and jumped into the now still water. At first, he was surprised at how much there was - he was immersed to the waist - and then he realized how cold it was ! So cold that he could feel a very intimate part of his anatomy retracting in his panties... _come on, soldier, it's only cold in your head ! _Yeah, that was right, after all, Gordon Freeman had seen worse when he had to escape from the Black Mesa Research Facility, in a game Mike had finished over eighty-three times, so it was not a cold bath that would stop him. He moved his already numb legs with difficulty and walked to the chocolate cocoon. It was quite scary, he realized now that he was close: it seemed to be shaped exactly for Augustus, as it had most probably hardened around him while he was in the tank, and even if it looked large enough to allow the boy inside to stay alive, it looked much (too much) like a coffin.

"Ehh... Augustus ?" he asked hesitantly. "It's Mike, you hear me ?" No reply. He repeated, louder, and this time there seemed to be an answer. It was only a very choked, almost inaudible scream:

"U... e... zer !"

"What ?" Mike yelled. "I don't understand !"

Augustus repeated. His voice had much difficulty passing through the thick chocolate, but Mike eventually understood: "Use the laser !"

"The laser ? Ain't it too dangerous ?"

"Tis the on... ay."

"What ?"

"I said: _this is the only way _!"

"Okay ! How should I do ?"

"How could I know ? I can't see anything !"

_Okay, thanks, you're very helpful... _Mike hesitantly observed the threatening barrel over his head. There had to be a control panel, but where ? Let's see... the laser seemed to be connected to a cable that ran across the ceiling, to a balcony on one of the walls... yes, the control panel had to be there ! He ran (as much as he could) towards the balcony and found a steel ladder to climb. That seemed way too easy. In a matter of seconds, he was on the balcony, in front of a monitor representing the laser's aim. His pants seemed to weigh three tons and he was freaking cold, but at the moment he didn't mind, too busy he was adjusting the weapon. The idea was of course to open the cocoon without killing its content, and it was harder than it seemed. When he was done, he pushed the button _Test Fire _and a straight red beam as thin as a hair appeared from the barrel and proceeded to dig in the chocolate around Augustus with a surgical accuracy. When it reached the water, the beam automatically disappeared, letting all the upper part of the cocoon ready to be opened.

_Okay, I guess I made it... _Mike then climbed down the ladder, had another violent chill in contact with the water (_damn, it's really cold !_) and came back near the cocoon.

"Auggie ? Are you still there ?"

This time, the German boy's voice appeared way clearer: "Where else could I be, sucker ?"

"Okay, understood... so how's it going in here ?"

"It's great, really. Nice loft. I'm thinking of installing a bar, and maybe a juke-box."

"Auggie, I understand that you may feel a bit... let's say pissed, but I'm trying to help you !"

"Okay, sorry. I can see some light. Not much."

"I've cut through with the laser. If you push, I think you can break free."

"In my condition, I'm afraid it won't be possible..."

"What do you mean by that ?"

"Well, you'll see. It's weird. Try to pull."

"Kay."

Mike slid his fingers through the holes created by the laser, tightened his grip, and pulled with all his strength... nothing happened ! He tried again, this time pulling so hard that he began to roar, still without result. One third try, and this time he pushed with his foot while pulling, like a lever. The chocolate cracked and yielded, but it surprised the boy and he lost balance to fall completely in the icy water. He struggled to get up, and once he was on his feet with his head out of the water, he began to gasp for air violently. The shock had been to him like the crack of a whip. He was wet all over, and damn, his hairstyle was ruined ! In front of him, Augustus was slowly getting out of his cocoon which was now wide open. _Waw, _thought Mike, _I understand what's his problem..._

Actually, Augustus was floating in his clothes. He seemed to have lost all his fat, and his muscles were reduced to almost nothing. He looked like a skeleton with skin, red hair, and clothes ten times too large for him. It was scary.

"Ehh... are you okay, Auggie ?"

"Not much. I was completely compressed by the pipes I passed through..." he looked at the prison he had just managed to leave. "This shape is not mine anymore."

"Well, at least it's more effective than any diet in the world..."

"Sure, but you know the worst ? It's not only my fat, my muscles were also compressed to very thin proportions. I feel like I have no strength anymore. No strength at all..."

"Aouch... but you're gonna survive, right ?"

"Yeah, I guess. By the way: thanks."

"You're welcome. Now, we'd better get out of here. I was planning to make my way to the central computer and take control of the facility."

"You can do it ?"

"I think so. You're coming with me ?"

"Is there any other choice ?"

"No..."

"Okay... where did you come from ?"

The boy pointed at the maze of coolant pipes.

"I passed through the ventilation shaft, behind those pipes. We'll have to climb to reach it."

"With that body of mine, impossible."

The two boys stopped for a moment and looked around.

"There," said Augustus, pointing at a scaffold. "There's a hatch at this level. It's not very high, I can climb."

"Alright, let's go, then."

The two kids proceeded to walk, still with much difficulties, through the lake.

"It's really cold," complained Augustus.

"It's coolant water... here we are."

They had arrived in front of the steel ladder. The scaffold was only two meters over their head, but it was already a challenge for the skinny boy.

"Climb first," said Mike, "I'll be there to catch you if you fall."

Augustus started climbing, and eventually reached the scaffold safely. Just a little tired. Then Mike rejoined him, and they both passed through the hatch. During their time passed in the laser room, they hadn't noticed that the cobra that had secretly followed Augustus into the pipe had also been freed in the process. It was now swimming, perfectly healthy, in the lake...

To Mike's greatest disappointment, the hatch led to another endless white corridor. The boy began to have a serious hatred against white corridors.

"Great," he grumbled, "where are we supposed to go, now ?"

"Ain't you supposed to be some kind of MacGyver ? I thought you could always find a solution !"

"Last time I followed my intuition, I fell in a deadly trap, so I'd rather not try again."

"There must be a map or something to rely on..."

"Sorry, dude, it seems that Mr W. is the only one guy in the world crazy enough to prefer building a chocolate river inside his house better than setting maps."

"Please... don't talk about the choc... the ch-ch-choc..."

"Okay, I get it. Relax. So I think the last option is to do what anyone would do: we open the first door we meet and see what's behind."

They were actually lucky that they didn't have to walk long. After a few meters, the corridor formed a bend, and just at the entrance of that bend there was another hatch. This one bore the mention _Dining Hall 006._

"Dining hall ?" said Augustus. "That's a chance, I'm starving !"

The boy proceeded to open the door. As the hatch was opening slowly, very slowly, Mike suddenly had a flash: _Dining Hall_... what he had seen when he was in the shaft looked like... could it be ? He mentally juxtaposed the map of the shaft as he remembered it with the configuration of the place, and what he found was a perfect coincidence. The disgusting thing he had seen in the shaft came from this room...

"Auggie, wait !" he shouted. "Lock the door !"

"What ?"

"I said, lock the door now ! It's a..."

Too late... the hatch was already wide open, revealing the room to the two boys. Mike once again struggled against a violent retching. Augustus, who already looked weak, this time threatened to collapse.

The room was equipped almost exactly like the lunch room in Mike's school, except that it was wider in proportions, and the furniture was smaller, adapted to the size of the numerous Oompa Loompas who were sitting at the tables, eating meat and drinking butterscotch like perfectly normal people. Except that the white tiled floor was stained here and there with brown stains of boiled blood, and the meat presented in the dishes was composed of sawed-off limbs which shape of the fingers or the toes left no doubt about their origin...

"M...M...Mike," whispered the German boy, who was as pale as the walls, "tell me... they're not eating people, are they ?"

Mike did really not want to answer this question, but he didn't have the time anyway: the Oompa Loompas suddenly all turned their heads towards the intruders, leering at them with evil intentions and revealing their tiny, vicious, pirahna-like sharp teeth. It made no doubt that the two boys were meant to be the dessert... they started to calmly get up and leave their tables...

"Mike ?" asked Augustus with a choked voice.

"Run, Auggie. Run like Hell !"

The Snake flew up high and hit a cobweb wall again, before falling back on the floor. The spider was overly strong, one strike of its paw was enough to throw the boy away like a soccer ball. But the Snake didn't care. He got up, and his grotesque snake face didn't show any pain, nor fear, nor even fury, rage or anger. These were human emotions. These were emotions of mammals, and in his mind just like in his body, he was a reptile. If the enemy is stronger than you, just find another way to beat it. It was his simple predator logic.

The Widow once again rushed to him, trying to pierce him with its sharp paws. The Snake waited until the very last moment, then another of his heart impulses occured, sending high-pressured blood rushing in the muscles he needed, allowing him to move at very high speed, too fast for people to see. For the spider, he had purely and simply disappeared under its eyes to re-appear a few feet away. The spider threw its paw at him.

_Impulse._

He disappeared again, to re-appear beside it. The Widow was rather disoriented by this unknown method, and its enemy seemed to enjoy that state of confusion. It tried to strike again.

_Impulse._

This time, the Snake re-appeared behind the spider and hit it at the abdomen with its whip. A long wound appeared on the exoskeleton, letting out a thick green blood, and the creature produced a wall-trembling screech as it turned round to get its revenge. It had sure been painful, but not damaging. Contrary to other animals, an injured insect keeps over eighty percent of its fighting potential. The Snake attacked again, and again, the whip winded around one of the front paws. Just like it did before, the Widow lifted its paw to throw the Snake away, but this time the mercenary didn't follow: instead, he released his weapon and dove under the spider.

_Impulse._

With a phenomenal speed, he dove his open hand, fingers pointed to the top, in the mutant's body, and soon his arm was covered of that gut-wrenching green substance, indicating that he had pierced a hole in the exoskeleton. Another eerie screech accompanied this exploit, and the Widow, unable to see where its opponent was, proceeded to search under his body with its middle paws, but couldn't reach it. The Snake had a great tactical advantage here: the monster knew he was under, but he was out of range. And as he had his hand inside its body, the spider would take the risk of having internal organs greatly damaged if it tried to slam him down. But the Snake, although he was in security, didn't have enough range to reach an internal organ by himself, and therefore he couldn't hurt it more than that. He couldn't bite it either, because his venom would sure not be powerful enough. Then the spider started to move, and Alex had to grab the exoskeleton with his two hands to keep his grip. He felt lifted, his feet left the ground, and then he felts his back rubbing against a wall. The Widow had climbed a wall and stopped in vertical position, which meant that he was now trapped in a sandwich between the wall and the mutant's body, and due to his position parallel to the spider, he had lost his advantage... without warning, the spider slammed him against the wall. The shock left him groggy, but he kept his grip tight, so it slammed him again, and again, and over again, until he finally lost his grip and fell, knocked out.

The Widow climbed down to arrive at its prey's level. It was ready to finish him, now. Aleksey crawled weakly in front of it. He hadn't yet recovered from the shock. Looking at the ground, he saw something, very close to his hand, that looked like a thin white rope. It was actually a loose string of web that was dangling from the wall a few meters over his head. He grabbed it, and waited. Soon, he felt the sickle-shaped ending of the spider's paw grabbing his ankle and lifting him high. It was the right time...

With his free leg, he kicked the paw that was holding him, so that his boot spur would slice the sickle ending away. With a scream, the spider released him. The Snake, still holding his rope, rested his feet on the wall then gave them a good impulse to bounce to the other side of the room. When he was just flying over the spider, he released the rope and landed smoothly behind his enemy, out of its range. The whip was only three meters away from him now. He jumped to get it back, and without waiting he striked again. The leather tail winded around the paw. Again. The Widow pulled to throw the Snake away. Again. Except that this time, Alex had been clever enough to grab a piece of cobweb on the wall before attacking. And everyone knows the impressive thoughness of cobweb. He felt a slight pain in his shoulder when the spider pulled, stretching his arms at max, but thanks to his great flexibility, he handled it. The Widow did not: the shock literally ripped its paw apart. Green blood splattered on the floor as the monster screamed in agony, in a yell so sharp that three out of the six spotlights on the ceiling exploded. The Snake knelt down, his hands tightened around his head, waiting for the scream to stop. When it did, he opened his eyes. The sight of the spider's amputated paw delighted the mercenary to the highest point. For the reptile in him, the spider was weak and represented very little interest. He felt his poison stings retracting in his palate, and his lips returning to their original shape. His human face had come back, the attack mode was over. But he shouldn't have taken it for granted. That's exactly at the moment when his aggressivity and vigilance dropped and his snake side began to rest that the Widow attacked him by surprise, with a vicious abdomen strike. The strike had been like a cannonball, and when the mercenary fell on the ground after hitting another wall, he was so groggy he could barely stand up. Slowly, the spider approached its prey, until its ugly mandibles were so close to the young boy's face that he could smell its breath. Did you know that spiders have a horrible breath ? Now, the Snake did. Too late to attempt something. Right now, he felt too weak to attack it bare hands, and he would be too slow with the whip. Unless... yeah, of course ! He had been so intensely focused on the battle itself that he completely forgot his wild card. Slowly, very slowly, all while staring at the spider in its eight eyes, he lifted his left pant and put his hand inside his boot. There was a gun in the boot, an ivory-made Deringer that was offered to him by his mentor. His ultimate defence, which he always had to keep on him for occasions like this one.

The spider produced a heavy growl, and opened its mandibles wide... now ! As fast as he could, the boy dove his armed hand between the mandibles, and he penetrated into the muzzle up to the wrist before firing. The Magnum 22 bullet showed no mercy: the rear of the beast's skull exploded from the inside. More green blood splattered in every direction, including, to the boy's sheer disgust, on his clothes. Then, the monster sagged, dead. The Snake got up, regained his composure, and considered the situation: he had killed it ! So far, it had been the biggest (and ugliest) enemy he had to kill, and he made it ! A wave of human euphoria threatened to immerse him, but it was quickly suppressed by the snake's coldness. It was done, now he had a mission to finish.

He began to walk around the room, searching for a possible exit, when he suddenly froze still: a vision. If he had a vision, it meant that one of his "spy snakes" was very close. He closed his eyes to see it: the snake was lying on something blue, or violet, he couldn't distinguish pretty well. The thing was floating in the middle of what seemed like a lake of a liquid of the same color. The snake turned its head, and Aleksey could recognize a hand. A child's hand, except that it was blue. Could it be Violet's body ? Yes, there was no other possibility: he had hidden a snake inside her stomach pocket, and now the snake was out and lying on her stomach. But she was laid down, motionless. Was she dead ? Shadows started moving over them, and the little reptile was eventually grabbed and lifted up. From that new point of view, Alex could see all the body of the little girl, and noticed with relief that her eyes were open and she was looking around, awakened. However, the look on her face was one of pain and terror that didn't please him at all. She was in danger, and he had to get her out of there. The snake turned its head, and the last thing Alex saw before shutting off the vision was the ugly face of an Oompa Loompa.

Back in the spider's nest. Okay, he hadn't gathered many informations, except that Violet was very close to him, surrounded by Oompa Loompas, and somehow her skin had turned blue. He'd better hurry. If he concentrated enough, he could feel physically close to the snake. It was a strange sensation, about the same as someone who feels the presence of another person in the same room as they are, but here it worked more like a radar or something. He could always tell more or less precisely the position of a snake if he was focused enough. Like if he was spiritually bound to them. Another one of his strange skills. After a few steps, he realized that he couldn't feel close enough if he didn't get... higher. He looked at the ceiling. Yes, Violet and his fellow reptile were situated higher than he was. So there had to be a passage, somewhere, to communicate. The web that covered the walls being largely tough enough to withstand his weight, he didn't hesitate and proceeded to climb up the wall. After having made about twenty meters, he stopped as he felt a powerful attraction for the part of the wall he was on. He didn't need to go any further: Violet was behind that wall. He began to rip the web off, and he soon discovered a narrow passage that seemed to have been left unused for years. From this passage, he could hear the sound of a machine, a big press, he thought, along with liquid noises and... weeps. Yeah, no doubt, these were girl's weeps. Violet...

_Hold on, girl, _he thought as he crawled through the passage, _I'm coming..._

Yeah, it sounded silly. Cheesy as Hell. He knew that perfectly, but that was the only thing that came to his mind. If you were trapped in such an insane place, and if you had just survived anguishing hallucinations and an oversized man-eating spider, would you still be able to find a good tirade ? Well he was not.

The hatch burst wide open as Mike and Augustus, panicked, rushed back inside the laser room which they had left a minute before. Behind them, the Oompa Loompas were running along the corridor, ready for a good manhunt. And they were over a hundred.

"Where to go ?" asked Augustus.

Mike looked around quickly and noticed another door at the other end of the bridge overhanging the lake.

"This way ! Quick !"

The ex-fat kid didn't wait to follow Mike and the boys rushed to the exit. The Oompa Loompas had already reached the bridge and were tailing them tight. Then suddenly, the bridge gave way under their feet and the boys fell in the water. Mike was the first to get up.

"Quick, Auggie ! Get up and run !"

The German obliged, though he already felt worn out. He did really have not the slightest strength left after the forced slimming, but he had to force himself to run in the icy water. It was a matter of life and death. Mike had spotted a ladder on the other side of the lake that would also lead to an exit, and they were heading this way. Behind them, the cannibal dwarves were swimming to get them, and they had a great advantage: they could swim fast. On their side, the kids were horribly slowed down by the water. Mike thought of using his tazer, but it was a bad idea as it could hurt them in the process. But the ladder was still so far, and the Oompa Loompas were getting so close !

"Auggie, got a weapon ?"

"What ?"

"A weapon, quick !"

Augustus obeyed and handed him his flick knife. Mike opened it and kept running, watching over his shoulder to see how their pursuers were progressing. Eventually, when one got too close, Mike would swing the blade towards him to repel him. It was really not great, but it made them gain some precious seconds. When he turned back his head to watch in front, he almost had a heart attack when he saw the wide open mouth of a cobra that was flying straight to his throat ! He had the miraculous reflex to dodge it just before it reached its target. The cobra passed beside him and landed on the face of an Oompa Loompa, biting him in the eyes in the process. What happened then was more than miraculous: the attacked dwarf fell screamed in pain and struggled in the water, and a good number of his companions rushed to help him in what looked like a chaotic football melee. This gave the boys just the time they needed to reach the ladder and start climbing, Augustus first. But when they arrived midway in their ascent, Augustus stopped.

"Auggie," hurried Mike, "what's the Hell's going on ? Climb !"

"I can't," he replied, out of breath, "too... too tired..."

"Oh, shit..."

He looked under him, and saw that the Oompa Loompas were back in the race and had begun to climb the ladder too.

"Auggie, if you don't climb that fucking ladder, we'll both die here ! Come on, move your lard ass !"

It was rather stupid to say that, because Augustus' ass was now totally fatless, but shouting at him gave him back some courage. In a great effort that pumped almost all the energy he had left, he lifted his arm... and slid and fell off the ladder.

"No !"

Mike caught his arm before it was too late. The boy was as light as a feather, but the young nerd wasn't particularily strong, and he felt he wouldn't last long.

"Hold on, Auggie ! I'll get you out of there..."

Under them, the Oompa Loompas had arrived at the level of Augustus' legs, and were now gripping to his pants to add some weight, making Mike's task harder. These bastards were smart ! Soon, Augustus was getting too heavy, and Mike powerlessly felt his arm sliding out of his grip, until he finally gave way.

"Auggie !" he screamed.

Under him, the German boy yelled as he fell in the water, and the Oompa Loompas immediately gathered on him in a melee. Augustus had no way to get out, it was over for him.

"Auggie..." whispered Mike. Tears started rolling down his cheeks. But no time for mourning, some Oompa Loompas were already climbing the ladder again, this time after him. The boy's sorrow turned into an uncontrolled rage. He wanted to kill them all. The first midget reached his leg and started climbing it.

"You prick !" he shouted. "Take this !"

He drew his tazer, put the metal tongues on the dwarf's head, and turned it on. The small freak received an electroshock that made him fall dead in the water. Another one arrived, and experienced the same fate. Then a third one. Then a fourth one. But soon, there were too many of them, they surrounded him and managed to snatch his weapon out of his hand. But the boy wasn't done yet, and he struggled, kicking and punching around, before deciding to give up and resume his ascent before being overpowered. He hardly made it to the door, and passed it to arrive in a small, black steel corridor. He followed it for a few meters, still chased by the dwarves, and arrived at the only door at the end. He opened it, and his eyes grew twice their size in shock: the room behind, it was dark and so amazingly big that he couldn't distinguish the wall nor even the floor. It could be big enough to host an entire village ! How was he supposed to pass that room ? He looked behind. The Oompa Loompas had stopped, waiting for him to make a decision, observing him with their wild, predatory glares. They were blocking the only other way, and they were way too many. If he couldn't see the floor of the other room, it was surely because it was too far below. Jumping from so high would be most likely to kill him. But he had no retreat possible. And he did not want to end up devored by these monsters. Anything but that. He looked at his pursuers again, and gave them a sarcastic smile.

"Suckers..." he told them.

Then, to the Oompa Loompas greatest surprise, he jumped.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yeah, I know, cliffhanger. But don't worry, nobody's dead. There's no character death in this story. Stay tuned, next chapter will feature Violet's comeback ! And Mike's fans may also like the next chapter. By the way, the little song featured in this chap was composed by me, inspired by Alice Cooper's _The Man Behind The Mask_.


	18. Deus Ex Machina

I'm quite happy to inaugurate this new chapter after so long. I know it's been a while, but this chapter really demanded a lot of efforts, and, well, there were the holidays in December. Anyway, I dedicate this chapter to Karra Venus Leo and all other Violet's fans who have been waiting for her comeback for so long, and I hope won't get disappointed. As usual, not any of Mike's theories bear any scientifical value, it's pure invention, and his inventions must not be tried at home !

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The unbearable pressure that had been choking Violet for a time that had seemed horribly long to the girl finally stopped. Not daring to open her eyes, she just felt her limbs and chest being liberated from a terrible weight, and she could breathe again. But the air, as it filled in her compressed lungs, inflated them back to their original volume, producing a sensation of pain, similar to what a newborn baby feels when he breathes for the first time. She cried, as loudly as she could. The pain ! Everywhere ! Her legs, from the toes to the hips, felt like a million mad karatekas had kicked her restlessly, her arms, from the fingers to the shoulders, felt like they'd been slowly rolled over by a bus, and her chest felt like a balloon swollen with burning helium. Every single part of her body had become a paramount of suffering. She cried until her throat felt like sandpaper and her voice was reduced to an inaudible squeal. Strangely enough, it managed to calm her down a bit, and the pain slightly decreased with the stress. She took a deep breath (her lungs were now at a point where she could almost breathe normally) and focused on external sensations, trying to stop her jaw from shaking and to ignore the tears that were drowning her eyes. She didn't feel anymore like she was juicy and fat. It was a good thing, maybe she had been turned back to normal. She also felt laying in a low volume of liquid that touched only the back of her body, though all of her body was wet. And around her, the noises of machines, pumps, steam releases and orders claimed in an unknown language came to her ears.

She was completely lost. What had happened ? First, the Factory, then that eerie forest with lots of snakes, and that guy, Aleksey... maybe he had kidnapped her in the hotel and brought her in the forest... and the Factory was just a dream... in any case, that gruesome, torturous feeling of having her whole body compressed, her flesh and bones bent, and the liquid, so much liquid pouring through her skin... was not a dream. It was too horribly true. But she was afraid to meet the monster's yellow eyes if she opened her eyes. But... the noise... it was not the noise you'd find in a forest. Everything around her sounded like a factory. Then, she remembered the gum that had made her swell up like a blueberry. So what was true, at the end ? Was she in the Factory, or in the forest ? There was only one way to find out...

She opened her eyes. First, she didn't see anything through the tears, but as she blinked they rolled away and her vision became clear. The first thing her eyes met was a large black iron plate a few meters over her head. The press... she would shiver, but she found out that, although her muscles did respond, moving her body required a lot of effort. She was, as she had guessed, in a small pool of a blue substance that looked like fruit juice. Around the pool, a serie of pipes were releasing furious whistling plumes of steam. She thought this system might be used to control the pressure under the press. A shadow moved and passed behind her head. Feeling scared, she risked a look and her eyes met the dark face of one of those creatures... how were they called already ? Oh, yeah... Oompa Loompas. She gave some more worried looks around, to see more of the dwarves. They were about a dozen, gathered around her, in jumpsuits and safety helmets. These guys had been freaking her out since she first met them in the Chocolate Room, and now she was all alone with them ! What did they want from her ? One of the Oompa Loompas talked to another, in their language that didn't sound like anything the girl knew, and pointed its tiny finger at her stomach. Instinctively, she gave it a look, and her eyes almost bagged out of her skull. Two shocks: the first one, her hands had taken a weird, unhealthy blue complexion. It was not as if they were this way because of the blue juice, from what she could see, it looked like a real skin color. As blue as her tracksuit ! And then, second shock, and maybe the worst, there was a fucking snake lying on her stomach ! A small one, but still, it was a snake ! She began to whine in panick, an attitude her mother would sure be ashamed of, but one of the Oompa Loompas grabbed the scary reptile out of her, considered it for a moment, and tossed it away. Violet sighed in relief. Now, she began to understand ! She remembered chewing the prototype gum, and Mike advising her not to do it. She remembered swelling up like a balloon. She remembered being taken away to be squeezed back to her original shape. All the passage with the forest and all didn't exist ! She looked at the Oompa Loompas and smiled at them with joy as they helped her out of the pool.

"Thank you, guys !" she said. "You wouldn't believe what I was imagining if I told you !"

The midgets replied with condescending smiles. She didn't like that at all. These were the freaky smiles of people who know something you don't and who play with you. What the... no, it couldn't. Of course, her mother had warned her that something weird could happen, and, well, it did. But these guys were helping her, that was obvious. They had squeezed the blueberry juice out of her, and now they would give her a painkiller or something, before returning her to the Tour with Mike, Veruca, Charlie, Augustus and... no, there wasn't a sixth one. Five tickets, five children. Why did she think of a sixth guy ? Surely that damn dream again...

When she was dragged out of the pool for a large stainless steel ground, she tried to stand on her feet, but she immediately collapsed and kissed the floor. Her legs were strengthless ! Actually, she felt her muscles and bones were still there, undamaged (though still pretty painful) but the problem came from her articulations. Her knees, ankles and inner thighs were disarticulated and everytime she tried to use them, they would move out of control in every direction, including (and especially) where a normal human's limbs were not supposed to go. She tried her arms to discover with sheer terror the same anomaly: her hand would move over three hundred degrees around her arm, but she couldn't even control it as the bones and muscles were seemingly disconnected. She yelled, and felt like she would faint again. Which was maybe not such a bad idea. After all, she had become a disarticulated blue puppet that didn't even have the strength to pull itself up. How pathetic ! But she controlled herself. The Oompa Loompas would surely arrange this for her. She looked around the room, she could see it more clearly now that she was out of the press: it looked like the work of an architect suffering from severe mental disorders. She had never seen anything similar before: the room was shaped like the inside of a monstrous egg, with her, the Oompa Loompas and the press on a circular platform situated in the middle - both vertically and horizontally - with two bridges connecting it to doors on the walls. With the exception of these doors, the walls of the "egg" were barely visible, as the space between them and the platform was filled with an inextricable maze of large and transparent pipes and tanks that went in every direction, draining and storing liquids of every imaginable color. All of this made a very colorful setting, but the lights installed at different points of the room were insufficient to provide enough brightness, and anguishing shadows had settled between the pipes. It was like a dark forest where she could be observed from every corner. And what the girl didn't know is that she was precisely being observed at this very moment. Somewhere in the dark, creeping on a pipe, a shadowly figure observed with its yellow eyes Violet trying to recover, as the dwarves gathered around her like dogs around a meat bowl. She didn't know what danger she was facing. But he did.

"Guessssss it'sssss time to ussssse the old methodsssss..." the figure whispered.

And suddenly, all the lights went out and the girl found herself plunged into the thickest darkness.

"What is..." she began, but she was interrupted: a loud crack blasted through the air, hurting her ears like a whip would hurt her skin. The crack came again, and again, over six times like that before it stopped. Total silence came back. Violet felt very uneasy. Instinctively, she knew that something wrong had happened.

"Uh, Oompa Loompas ?" she called. No reply. Nothing seemed to move. She hesitated. "Is there somebody there ? I can't move, I need help !"

At this moment, the lights came back to her greatest relief. However...

"Oh my God !"

No doubt why the Oompa Loompas didn't answer, they were all dead ! The vision was nightmarish, the small bodies were horribly mutilated, some were decapitated and some others had deep cuts, like if their flesh had been ripped apart. And the floor was soaked with dark blood. It had all happened so fast. What kind of... monster could have done such a thing ?

The sound of heavy metallic footsteps came to her ears, from behind. The killer ? She knew she might not have the strength to face him in her condition. She turned her head, shivering. It was him. Leather coat, boots, yellow eyes, he carried in his hand a whip dripping with blood. The sixth kid, the monster. Aleksey.

When Mike had decided to jump in the dark to escape the Oompa Loompas, he sure did not expect to land in such an unexpected place: he felt like in the middle of a cloud, an improbable cloud made of warm, pink wool with a sugar smell. Where was he, inside a cotton candy ? It was exactly what it looked like, except that it was moving, it seemed to be alive. Mike reached out and dug his hand into the pink wool. In response, he obtained a jerk from the "cloud" and an ovine head turned towards him and let out a bleating that surprised the boy. A sheep ! He looked around, and other heads stuck out of the pink wool to look at him. It was not a cloud, it was a flock of pink sheeps, the last thing Mike expected to find in the Factory. What was that room ? He stood up, and had to struggle against a few of the animals, who were seemingly upset to be disturbed so rudely. When he finally managed to get his head out of their fur, he took a long around: he was still in the dark room, so large that the ceiling, floor, and walls were out of sight. He and the herd were standing on a large conveyor belt, among many others that came in and out of the shadows, linking different machines and pods of every shape imaginable - cones, spheres, spindles, all painted with colorful double helix patterns like insane circus marquees - to each others and carrying materials to God knows where. The whole place seemed like unaffected by the laws of physics, like lost out of Earth, in the middle of the infinite universe, an infinity that gave Mike the most memorable vertigo of his life. The boy supposed that the walls of this room - if there were any - contained entrances to adjoining rooms, or to arterial tunnels leading to other rooms situated further away. In other words, this wide room had to contain the largest machines of the Factory and was also used as a communication passage between all the main areas of the facility. If Veruca had found the heart of the Factory, Mike was positive that he had just found its spine. So it meant that from here, he could theorically reach any part of the building, including the real Core System... and if he couldn't see the real floor, then it meant the premises went far deeper underground than he had imagined, and logically, if the Core was meant to be overprotected, it had to be situated in the very last basement, which he estimated to be... far, far below. Well, he just had to find a way to get down.

A sheep hit his butt from behind with an impatient bleating, and Mike looked in front of him to see that the belt he was on would soon enter into an unwelcoming stainless steel square pod, like a big metallic box of matches. Already, the sheeps in front of the herd were dragged inside, passing through a black latex curtain, and a deranging mechanic buzzing, like an elecric razor or a dentist's drill, but much louder, came to the boy's ears. Uh-oh... he didn't know what was happening inside, and he really didn't want to. His mind racing at breakneck speed, he observed his immediate surroundings, evaluating the possible exits. No way to jump out of the belt. If the floor was indeed so far below, he would only manage to kill himself. On his left, there was some sort of rail running parallel to the belt, but it was too far for him to catch. However, the top of the metal pod was not that high... when the black curtain was only two or three sheeps away from him, he jumped on the thick, fluffy fur of one of the animals and bounced on it to land on the roof of the pod, safe but on his wounded arm. He groaned in pain. The large laser burn was still painful, and the anaesthetic effect of the cold water had worn off. But he couldn't let this slow him down, he had a mission to accomplish ! He stood back on his feet and dashed to the other end of the "match box". There, another black curtain, from which the sheeps left. Apparently, the machine inside the box was supposed to shave them out of their fluffy wool, but it was so harsh that most of the animals re-appeared with only raw skin left. And to Mike's horror, the conveyor belt stopped a few meters after the pod, and the shaved sheeps fell out into what looked, from the boy's point of view, like a massive mechanic jaw. He could hear the poor beasts yell one last time as they were swallowed defenseless by the giant meat mincer, that roared while doing its grueling work, letting only an occasional spray of blood escape from it.

_Holy shit, _thought Mike, _is that what he has in store for us too ?_

On his right was a bridge, with a banister, so apparently meant for walking on it. He approached it and jumped on it from the roof. Okay, this bridge looked quite secure to him. Maybe he would find a ladder or an elevator to descend. He passed beside the meat mincer and he grimaced as he felt he had walked on a fresh blood stain. He continued his way. The rail he had seen earlier on his left formed an intersection, and from it, no less than a dozen of different railways began to go in every possible direction: forward, left, right, up, down, and sideways. It was like a railway built for a mad elevator whose designer expected it to be able to reach every individual part of the facility instead of a plain floor-to-floor way. Mike did not stop discovering things in this Factory, the problem is that a very few of these things were very pleasant. The recognizable humming of a rocket could suddenly be heard from behind, and the young genius turned his head to face what looked like a one-meter tall metallic fly, equipped with six arms, motion sensors on its small head, and two small rockets on its butt that made it fly over the boy's head. What was that, some kind of sentinel ? The machine stopped and observed the interloper. Mike didn't move, thinking that the machine would not see him if he stayed still, like in _War Of The Worlds_. But then, the fly let out a whistle that didn't mean anything good, and its two upper arms produced each one a small laser barrel. It had seen him.

"Holy..." he began, but he had no time to finish as a first blast hit the bridge right between them with a blinding spray of sparks and smoke. It didn't ask more for the boy to react: he turned back and ran like Hell, but the humming continued behind his back. The machine was chasing him.

The monster in leather coat was approaching. Violet, lying on the floor with her pathetically disarticulated body, felt terribly vulnerable as she saw him coming. God he was ugly, with his yellow eyes and stained clothes where the blood of the dwarves was mixed with an improbable dry green substance. Ever since the beginning, she had suspected something wrong in him, especially because of his similarities with the monster of her dreams. And now, no doubt was possible, he _was _the monster of her dreams ! But she wouldn't surrender without fighting. When he was close enough, she gathered all her strength and kicked him in the stomach. He coughed in surprise and stepped back from the shock. She stood on her feet, awkward but stable. She had enough adrenaline in her blood now to make her forget the poor condition of her skeleton. She kicked his stomach again. It was extremely painful to her, each move made her bones scream in protestation, but the satisfaction of beating that freak was just greater than the pain. She kicked him a third time. Only this time she underestimated him: he grabbed her leg in the air, and her knee gave way, making her fall right on him. She had the reflex to punch him in the process, but he dodged it perfectly and brought her down with no effort. She fell heavily on her back and closed her eyes under the pain, but tried her best not to scream, so as not to satisfy the freak. When she watched again, the monster had two fingers pointed in front of her eyes and his other hand pointed towards her throat.

"Now, listen," he said, with that inhuman voice of him, swinging a reptilian twofold tongue at each word, "you dare doing one other move and I snap your eyes out and rip your throat open. Trust me, it will represent no difficulty to me, I did this before. Will you obey ?"

She nodded slowly, two afraid to say anything. She was a black belt. Which meant, an excellent fighter. And he had submitted her in a matter of seconds.

"Are you gonna kill me ?" she asked.

"What makes you think so ?"

Nothing threatening in that question. It was just a question.

"You are... that monster in the hotel. You were chasing me. I think I can see it clearly, you freak."

"What the Hell are you talking about ?"

He rose up while talking, and his hands left their threatening position.

"I think it's obvious," she replied, feeling the tension increasing. Her speech came faster and louder as it went on, she was unable to control it. "You could have killed me right away yesterday night, in the hotel, but you preferred to keep me alive, just for the pleasure of tormenting me ! You've never been the sixth ticket winner, you just sneaked inside the Factory to torment me more and now you'll finish me ! What did you do to Mr Wonka and the other kids, monster ? Why are you still persecuting me after all these years, Snake ?"

Her last word came out as a glass-breaking yell as she burst in tears. Aleksey considered the scene with a certain embarrassment. It was clearly a nervous breakdown. It reminded him of his past girlfriend, who had had a similar reaction when she discovered he was... he gingerly knelt down beside her and rested a hand on her shoulder. She had a start, but he gently tightened his grip, in a non-aggressive manner.

"Jess... Violet. I don't know what you're thinking exactly, but you're wrong. I'm not an enemy. I'm here to help you. I promise."

She stopped crying, and stared at him with defiance in her eyes.

"What... are you ?"

"It won't be easy to believe, but I assure you that everything I will say is true. Are you ready ?"

"I guess... I got no other choice anyway."

"Good... I'm not a sixth ticket winner, this was just a trick. To let me in. In fact, I'm a bounty hunter, and I was hired by Mr Salt, to sneak inside the Factory and ensure Veruca's protection. As for the incident in the hotel, it was merely a bad joke, and I apologize for it."

He could see her eyes bulging in incredulity. She wasn't believing him.

"What's that story again ? You really think I'll buy that ? What comes next, Wonka is a monster ?"

"Yes, indeed."

She laughed at him.

"Okay, Mr Serpent, I'm maybe still young but I'm not that naïve. And between Mr Wonka and a yellow-eyed forke-tongued guy, it's easy to guess who is the real monster."

"Precisely not, Violet, you don't understand. Don't you remember Augustus's accident ? Don't you remember how scared we were after this ? We believed it was not an accident, and we were right."

Her defiant face faded. The memory of that event was indeed disturbing. But maybe it was still another of his tricks.

"No, I..." she stammered, "I don't believe you."

"And what about that gum ? Mike and I tried to make you spit it out, but it was already too late, and you fell in his trap. Listen carefully: when he explained me what mission it would consist of, Mr Salt stated quite clearly that he didn't trust Wonka. He chose me because I'm still a child, and therefore I have access to the Factory. Once in the Chocolate Room, I found out something: did you feel like you had a nightmare, in the previous hour ?"

She thought about the snake forest, and she quickly suppressed this image and just said yes.

"I had one too. It was a bad trip. Because the candy, in the Chocolate Room, were all rotten with hallucinogene drugs. And then, there was Augustus's accident. Remember, that's when we began to have suspicions."

She was now listening attentively. It all started to make sense in her head.

"We continued the way... to the Inventing Room. There, Mike discovered dangerous materials - deadly materials - that were used for the candymaking. And then..."

"I took that gum..."

"You did. And when you were taken away, Wonka tried to get rid of Veruca. I managed to rescue her. And Wonka disappeared."

"Disappeared ?"

"He left us alone in the middle of the Factory. He must have found us way too suspicious, so he preferred to abandon us, because he knew the building was full of traps, and we would never find a way out. That's when the nightmare occurred. We got separated, and I don't know what happened to the others. He tried to manipulate me, and then I had to fight a... I'd rather not talk about that. And I finally made my way here. We're in death danger here, so we must get to move. We'll find the others and get out of here together, okay ?"

"No."

"What ?"

"My mother always told me not to trust strangers."

She had said that with a somber, falsely naïve voice. She had listened to his story, but she had not believed him.

"You must be kidding me ?" he asked.

"Not at all. You just give me no reason to trust you."

"What makes you so paranoid against me ?"

"You look like a snake ! And snakes are cunning, it's a known fact."

He sighed. "Religious school ?"

"Yes."

"Okay... so you want a proof that I'm not the monster you think I am... would a monster carry this on him ?"

He put his hand in his tight-fitting top and produced a thin golden necklace with a small locket. He then came back kneeling in front of her, and opened the locket. Inside, there was a small picture of a girl around her age, who looked so much alike that she could almost be her sister, with a shy boy with glasses, who was like a child version of Peter Parker.

"It's my girlfriend," he explained. "Her name's Jessifer."

"And the dork with her, who is this ?"

"It's me. Or at least, it _was _me."

What ? But, she thought he was Kazakh, and he was a farmer or something. Even if he was, as he said, a bounty hunter, it wouldn't match at all with the picture. It was confusing.

"Who are you, in reality ?"

"It would take long to explain, and we're running out of time. Are you with me ?"

"I... so many weird things happened in this place and to be honest, it freaks me out maybe more than you. So, yes, I'm with you."

In response, he gently caressed her cheek and gave her a warm smile. Well, as warm as a cold-blooded creature could.

"I promise you will be taken back to your mother before dusk. Right now, Mike is heading to the Central Computer, he thinks he can take control of the building and find us an escape. We need to gather up with Charlie, Veruca and Augustus. But before we move, there is something we need to do. Something very unpleasant."

"What is it ?"

He didn't answer but put his hands on her knee and squeezed.

"Aouch !" she yelled. "Are you crazy ? Don't you see it's broken ? I'm broken everywhere !"

"No, you're not. Your bones are only dislocated."

"Oh yeah ? And how do you know so much about bones ?"

He stretched his arm towards her face to make sure she was watching, and he violently twisted his own elbow the wrong way, with a creak that made the girl cringe. He then set it back to normal with ease, and didn't seem to suffer at all.

"I know a lot about bones," he just said, "trust me."

He put his hands back on her leg.

"Hey, wait ! What do you think you're doing ?"

"I'm gonna set your bones back in place."

"No way ! Don't you dare to touch me !"

She started to struggle in panick and tried to punch him. She already had to have a bone set a day she got hurt at karate, and it had been certainly the worst moment of her life, or rather the second worst after the juicing session. He grabbed her arm, but she tried to bite him and he also had to grab her forehead.

"Listen, I know it hurts like Hell. I know how it feels, I experienced this too. You already suffered a lot. You were swollen up, and then you were juiced, and it sure wasn't a pleasure, but you passed through this with courage, so you can bear that, too ! Are you a whiny, or are you Violet Beauregard ?"

She let out a nervous laughter.

"You speak like my mother, you know... I'll try, what should I do ?"

"Lay down, close your eyes, and take a deep breath before each... setting. I'll warn you so that you'll brace yourself, okay ? In a few seconds, it will be over."

Shaking with expectation, she followed his advices, closed her eyes, and tried to think of something else. She thought of a delightful lake where she had a picknick with her mother, on a sunny and hot Summer day. She was only three years old at that time...

"Knee." Alex said.

There was a creak, and it was as if a drill was digging in the middle of her knee. She cried as loud as she could, and the crying quickly turned to heavy panting and sweating. Her blue hair was all wet and sticking to her skin. She took another deep breath, and focused on another memory. Her first karate trophy. The disappointed looks of her opponents, the pride in her mother's eyes, this day...

"The other knee."

The pain, again... she was in agony, and she did no more have the strength to cry.

A bang, and another, and another one. The metal fly was shooting at the door restlessly. But Mike considered it was solid enough. On that bridge, a few seconds earlier, he had run faster than he could ever imagine to escape the flying killer. It had kept on shooting at him, always missing him tight - and causing severe damages to the bridge, Mike was unlikely to take the way back now - until the boy reached a part of the bridge that served as a balcony for a large spherical structure, and passed the first door he saw. Now he was inside the structure, looking expectantly at the massive door he had come through. It was trembling under the assaults of the furious machine that was standing outside. Sometimes, sparks would even emerge from the corner. But it gave no sign of weakness. He let out a long sigh and allowed his panicked heart to slow down its pace. Now he could ignore it and focus on where he was. He turned round to explore the room. He quickly noticed that the only door was the one he had come from. Great, he was trapped him, unless his mind had another brilliant idea. The room did take only a small part of the sphere. It was rectangular and lighted by powerful neon lights. There were a few tables in the middle, containing all sorts of tools, drills, torches, spanners, and maps, and there were numerous racks against the wall where were displayed the machines to be repaired. It all looked exactly like any garage, except that the machines to be repaired were not motorcycles or car engines, but robots. Mike ran his look around the racks and noticed two different sorts of robots: there were the fly-like killers like the one that was waiting outside, except that these ones - thanks God ! - were out of order. The other ones were taller, about the boy's own size, and shaped like food cans topped by a dome equipped with an antenna and multiple sensors, like electric eyes watching in every direction at a time. They had no rockets but caterpillar tracks under them, and they had four long arms ending with pincers. None of these machines was working either. The boy had the deranging impression that, since the morning, he was on a TV whose spectator was constantly switching channels. The Tour had begun with _Alice In Wonderland _for the Chocolate Room, _The City Of Lost Children _for the Inventing Room, the room with the laser where he had found Augustus had some similarities with the_ Metal Gear _games, and now, what was it this time ? _The Matrix _? He approached one of the caterpillar machines and considered it, examining its threatening arms and crude body. Under one of its arms, he found a small plate with an inscription carved on it:

_Serie XPDR000155874 "WonkaBot" Security & Maintenance Unit_

_Prinzmetal Cybernetic Engineering Inc. all rights reserved, made in the USA._

The flying machines had similar plates, except that they bore the codename _"FlyBot"_. Mike understood now: these machines were the Factory guards, some where designed to patrol over high-altitude areas, whereas others were ground models, for the usual parts of the Factory. Guards usually carry weapons... he grabbed a spanner on the table and immediately proceeded to strip down the metal arms. To his great disappointment, the lasers or any other offensive stuff it could've been equipped with had been taken off. Okay, how was he supposed to get out now ? He couldn't end up trapped in this small repair shop ! Wait... of course he couldn't. He felt like connections in his brain, like a sportscar, when you turn on the engine and hear it roar like a tiger. His brain was working at full speed, because he just realized he was locked in a room with a whole lot of tools and machine pieces... an environment which was to him like a gun shop is to a Texan. Slowly, with precautionous moves, he grabbed a pair of blowtorching goggles and put them on. He then turned on a torch, and he couldn't help but smile like the craziest pyromaniac in the world when he saw the blue flame reflecting on his black glasses. That FlyBot, outside, would never see it coming...

"How do you feel, Violet ?" asked Alex.

After having her legs, waist, arms, shoulders and neck set back to normal without anaesthesis, the blue girl at his feet was turned to a whining wreck.

"I want to die," she moaned.

"You know you're tough. Very tough. Your mother would be proud of you."

She sneered in a tired manner. "Right now, I couldn't care less about what my mother thinks of me."

"Sure... you wanna try to get up ?"

"Yeah."

He gave her his hand and helped her up. When she was on her feet, he released her, but staying ready to catch her back if she fell. She staggered a bit, but she stood still.

"It still hurts," she said, "but I'm alright, I guess."

"Good, we'd better..."

He didn't finish his phrase but froze still.

"What ?" she asked.

"Didn't you hear that ?"

"Hear what ? There's nothing."

He didn't answer but stuck out his tongue to swing it in the air.

"Stop that," she complained, "it's creepy."

"Something's closing in. Something that doesn't seem friendly."

"Then we should leave at once !"

"We can't. It's coming by the two doors at a time. We must hide."

"Where ? There's no hideout on that platform."

He gave a look at the maze of pipes around them.

"We'll have to do some gymnastics," he declared. "Hold on tight. Quick, it's getting closer !"

He then took his long whip and swung it towards the nearest pipe. The end of the leather tail winded around a large bolt and remained stuck like a grapnel.

"Oh, great," mumbled Violet as she put her arms around his shoulders, "just like _Batman_."

"Here we go !"

And they jumped out of the platform to go swinging in the air among the pipes, which reminded to Violet the rock-climbing session she once had during vacations in Texas. Waw, she did really feel in distress to evoke three positive memories in less than five minutes, she who was not of the kind to "lose her time with memories". But no matter how strong-willed you are, this Factory and its traps would always find a way to break you. They landed smoothly on the top of a pipe draining some dark red liquid, and they laid down to be as stealth as possible. They were still very close to the platform, and they could be seen if someone bothered to give it a look. But they didn't have time to move to a further pipe. It was coming already: the two doors of the room opened simultaneously, and a dozen of strange, can-shaped machines mounted on caterpillar tracks followed the bridges to the central platform. The machines each had four arms ending with pincers, the two upper arms being also equipped with some sorts of barrels, and a dome-like head that had electric eyes displayed all over it, allowing the robots to watch in every direction at a time. They looked like they came from a science-fiction movie. The robots gathered around the dead bodies of the Oompa Loompas and considered them, as if they were deeply thinking. As if they were suspecting something, with a human-like intelligence that gave goosebumps. Violet, from her hideout, suddenly felt as exposed as if she were standing naked in the middle of a church office.

"Let's get out of here," she whispered to Alex. "This place is not secure."

"Shut up," he replied as softly as he could, "if you speak, they may hear you."

The machines rose their head and the antenna they had on top of it began to vibrate. One of them emitted a whistle _à la _R2-D2. They had heard something.

On the table, there was the eye of a WonkaBot, which out of the machine looked like the scope of a sniper rifle. Mike gingerly removed the glass on top of that scope and then, armed with a tiny needle-nose pliers, he proceeded to patiently remove all the electric components inside. He then filled the now empty device with a radioactive blue substance which he had collected from the body of a Bot, and which he supposed was some kind of fuel. He had tested the liquid before by letting a drop fall on a corner of the table, which produced a blast that could be compared in noise to the National Day's pyrotechnics, and concluded that it was almost as dangerous as nitroglycerine. Once the scope was full, he put the glass back on, and stuck a wet rag on the bottom. He now had a nice home-made explosive bullet. He went to another part of the table, the part that was as far as possible from the door, where a long metal tube was waiting for him. He had built the tube by welding together different pieces of armor he had stolen from the Bots. It looked like an oversized transverse flute, with one of the two extremities blocked by wet rags, and a tiny opening on the top from which a home-made fuse stuck out. He grabbed the tube and held it straight, its open extremity facing the ceiling. He poured a good glass of the blue fluid inside, and then slid in his missile. His own rocket launcher was ready.

"MacGyver is my bitch," he laughed, and with his goggles on, his laughter looked like that of a mad scientist.

Now, it was the most delicate part of his escape plan: he had to be extremely fast, and the weapon had been made hurriedly and was not secure, there was still the risk that it would explode in his hands. But in his position, it was worth taking that risk. He approached the door, and listened: behind, he heard the humming of the FlyBot's rockets. It had given up shooting at the door when it realised it couldn't break through. Now, it was patiently waiting, like a guard dog, for Mike to open. And that was exactly what he intended to do. He took a deep breath and braced himself.

"One... two... three !"

He unlocked it and pushed it lightly to open it a crack, and rushed behind the table to grab his weapon. He quickly turned on the torch, lit the fuse, and pointed the bazooka towards the door. The FlyBot, outside, extended one of its long arms and opened the door completely, revealing itself to the boy. The flame on the fuse reached the blue substance. Mike smiled.

"Hail to the King, baby !" he shouted in victory.

There was a deafening blast, and the shock made the teenager jump off the ground and smash the wall behind him, but it worked ! The rocket was propelled out of its launcher and flew straight into the flying robot. There was an explosion that made the floor quake, with a huge breath of fire, followed by a blinding rush of white sparks, and then it stopped, letting only a haze of dark blue smoke. Mike got up and considered his work in amazement. He dropped his now unloaded weapon and went to the bridge. He coughed and waved his hands in front of him to chase the smoke that had a suffocating smell of burning gasoline. There was nothing of the FlyBot on the bridge, except a pincer-shaped hand and three scopes surrounded by a brown, roasted piece of armor that once was the head. A few sparks were still hissing out of the remains. Completely destroyed. Damn ! Mike lifted his head and let out a long wolf-like scream, then he started to moonwalk around the dead Bot while chanting hysterically:

"So who's your Daddy ? Who's your Daddy, bitch, who's your Daddy ?"

He was overwhelmed with the same unholy joy he had experienced when he had reached the last level of _Unreal Tournament_, but a hundred times stronger. Because, shit, this was for real ! All the gamers in the world were little girls compared to him, because he had beaten a _real _monster !

_Okay, Big Mike, you made an exploit here, but don't get cocky. This one was a sub-boss, now you're left to beat the real big boss of that game... the Central Computer._

He came back to the repair shop and grabbed another device he had built together with the bazooka. Phase one of the plan: get rid of the FlyBot and escape the room. Complete. Now, phase two: reach the bottom of the room... as fast as possible. That was the device was for. He put it on his back and fastened a whole mess of straps he had made out of metallic wires and his own belt. He went back to the bridge with the device secured on his back like a parachute. Except that it was not exactly a parachute: two FlyBot rockets linked together, connected to a control button fastened on a strap at his chest's level. Mr Teavee would sure have a heart attack if he saw him at that moment: his son had built and was about to use his own jet pack.

The boy followed the bridge at speed, until he reached a point that seemed appropriate. He sighed and waved the sweat out of his forehead. This little run had exhausted him, for his equipment was insanely heavy. He looked in front of him: a few meters beyond the bridge, the rails he had seen earlier were diving down, most probably down to the floor, and they were dimly lit by mine lamps arranged around them at different levels. It all looked like an elevator pit. There was even the mention _Basement 6 _appearing in red on a wall not far from him. He bent his head to look down, now that the lights displayed at different altitudes gave a clearer view on what was going on under, and felt a vertigo invading him. It was _gigantic_. He couldn't even give an approximation, but he thought there were maybe six more basements, which represented twelve basements in all ! But no use to be impressed, with his stuff it would be piece of cake to descend. He climbed on the banister, and looked in fear at the bright but bottomless pit below.

"Rock'n Roll !"

He let himself fall. He was diving straight and face down into the pit, he was going so fast that his still wet hair was pulled backwards, his teeth began to chatter, and God he could swear he would have swallowed his own eyes if he didn't wear those googles ! Worst, the panick of seeing the ground closing in so fast sent rushes of adrenaline that made him see the world in red. His chest could explode of the pressure at any moment ! He put his hand on the button on his chest.

_That's the moment of truth..._

He pushed it. He who was already falling at breakneck speed felt his speed doubled as two blue flames of pure energy appeared from the jet pack and propelled him. The rush had been so violent that he felt unable to move his neck, and the skin of cheeks was tensed to the point that it became as thin as cigarette paper. He extended his leg to the right, like if he wanted to kick, and pushed all his body to the left, and he was going left ! Only then did he realise that he could go in every direction he wanted, now: left, right, up, down, no matter, he was flying, shit he was flying !

_Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh !_

He tried an awkward but oh so fun loop, and resumed his descent extending his arms before him, dreaming he was Superman. No... Supermike, it sounded better. He was about to arrive finally when an unexpected object appeared right before him. He just had the time to turn left a quarter of a second before the collision became inevitable and changed his trajectory. The object was also equipped with rockets and it was following him. Oh, no, another FlyBot ! He instinctively went on horizontal flight and left the pit, hoping to find something to get rid of the robot among the machines. He dodged a conveyor belt, and another one, damn, each obstacle dodged made him more and more excited, but the Bot kept chasing him ! He got closer to a large spindle-shaped structure and started flying around it, but he just barely avoided a second FlyBot coming from the other direction. He flew away scared: here they were two, now ! He moved to a bridge in front of him.

_Tshhhhhhhhh ! Tshhhhhhhhhh !_

Two laser beams passed beside him, avoiding him tight, and hit the bridge which collapsed immediately. But Mike did really have no time to give it a damn, and he just passed through it, and the two flying killers were not about to lose him ! He tried to fly as close to the machines or bridges as possible, sometimes even at a suicidal distance, thinking that the Bots would make a mistake and crash, but they were machines, and machines were damn good pilots. A laser beams passed beside him again, so close that he felt the heat on his cheek ! Okay, things were getting really too dangerous ! He moved to another part, where from the pit, at which floor, he didn't have a clue, and in his situation, orientation was a very trivial notion. Survival had priority. He arrived in a wide section which was a dense jungle of scaffoldings extending their oversized structures to form like a monstrous spider web of steel, with cranes and mobile hooks conveying dozens of crates per minute across the place to unknown destinations. The area was deathly dangerous, it looked like the inside of Death Star, and one mistake of direction could make the boy eat his goggles. That's where he regretted to have forgotten to install a speed regulator on his jet pack, but he'd have to deal without. He braced himself, activated all his reflexes at one hundred and ten percent. A scaffold, dodge ! A ladder, dodge ! A crane, dodge ! As long as his nerves didn't betray him, he still had a chance, but his pursuers were still on the race and didn't have to care about their nerves. How robots think was a mystery to Mike, this was a philosophical question completely out of his range, but he was sure they were not afraid of dying.

_Tshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh !_

He heard the familiar hiss very clearly, and had the reflex to push all his body to the right, thus avoiding the shot that would've hit him. Waw, this move had saved his life ! The abruptness of his move had made his trajectory unstable, and he began to spiral like an F-16 pilot under PCP. He felt nauseous, his face was turning green.

_Tshhhhhhh ! Tshhhhhhh !_

Two shots, three, four, countless shots were coming from the angry robots, but none of them touched him, his spiral moves were protecting him ! A parcel in front ! He bent just in time to dodge it, but this modified his trajectory and sent him right into the nearest scaffold. Desperate, he raised his hands in front of him and miraculously grabbed a metallic bar with both hands. Driven by his own speed, he began to twirl around the bar like Superman around the Earth, and his poor hands were becoming horribly painful, burnt by the friction, there was even smoke coming out between his fingers ! The two FlyBots arrived at his level... he released the bar and curled up in foetal position to absorb the shock, as his momentum made him spin freewheel burning towards the robots. He attempted to regain a stable position by extending his legs, and by doing so, he dropkicked a FlyBot, making it lose its trajectory and crash against a crane in a wave of fire and sparks ! One down, one to go ! But Mike had no time to congratulate himself, he had regained a straight trajectory but now he had the last robot tailing him, much closer than before. Actually, much too close to miss him.

_Tshhhhhhhhhh !_

The laser beam hit one of the boy's rockets, and the jet pack lost its stability. It started heading up, and back, in an uncontrolled loop. The FlyBot passed below him...

_Okay, _thought Mike, _time to play like Tom Cruise !_

He grabbed his belt with both hands and opened it without hesitation. He unfastened his jet pack in the air and let himself fall, but landed downright on the back of the Bot, which he grabbed by the "neck" in a sleeper hold. The Bot immediately reacted by spiralling and shaking abruptly, trying to get rid of the interloper, still flying at speed, but Mike had a tight hold. They left the "Death Star" area and took altitude until the boy saw the familiar elevator rails. He pulled the robot's head to that direction, but the robot counterbalanced with its own weight and they soon engaged into a rageful strength challenge. The FlyBot extended one of its arms behind it, and its pincer-shaped hand grabbed Mike's arm and cruelly squeezed the injured area. The boy let out a high-pitched yell.

"You bastard !" he screamed as he grabbed the pincer with a hand and with the other, he proceeded to punch the top of the Bot's head with hatred. They both started shaking and jerking, just like on the pink boat this morning (was it really _this _morning ? It seemed like an eternity since the troubles began). The robot was completely confused and flying at random, so busy it was fighting with Mike. The boy lifted his head. Right in front, a few meters ahead, a wall. They were rushing straight into a wall ! Thinking it was the only way to save himself from a fatal collision, he released everything he was holding and jumped out of the fly. Just in time ! Straight after, the robot kissed the wall and blew up in flames. Mike landed heavily but safely on a bridge, the burning remains of his enemy raining around him.

He stood back on his feet after having dealt with a backlash of adrenaline that almost made him faint. He didn't know where he was, but he had not made it to the bottom, and moreover he had lost his jet pack. Just great ! He was only left to find himself another way, then. Life was much more simple in a video game, where at least, he could save his progress ! He began to think about another route when he took notice of the hatch that was facing him. It was perfectly similar to the hatches of the Inventing Room or the Nut-Sorting Room. But this one bore a mention that immediately captivated the young nerd: _Television Room._

He walked to the hatch, reached out his hand, and opened it. He knew he had a mission, but he just wanted to have a look. The massive door opened on a bright white light that hurt his eyes even through his goggles. He entered, and had a start of terror at the first thing he saw inside: Oompa Loompas... the midgets had stopped their activities and were observing him with distance, like zoo guardians observing a tiger that had escaped his enclosure. They didn't seem aggressive. Just worried. Mike thought that with his numerous wounds and the dust all over his clothes, he had to look as impressive as a warrior coming back from battle. On their side, the Oompa Loompas were only six, dressed in white suits, with ridiculously oversized sunglasses on their faces. They weren't that impressive, Mike thought, when they were in a small group. These ones looked like cockroaches in spacesuits. He started to move around to explore the room, throwing defiant glares at them to hold them back. The room was white. That's all. Plain white, everywhere, so white that the line between the floor and the wall was barely visible. There was a large flatscreen television against a wall, with a sofa facing it. Against the opposite wall, there was an elevated control console, accessible by a small set of stairs. But the most intriguing was a big circular platform in the middle of the room, with two triple-barrelled laser cannons aiming at it. Intrigued, Mike walked to one of the cannons which was hanging from the ceiling, and looked at it. It was too high above his head for him to study it the way he wished, but he easily concluded that it was no a laser. All the other lasers he had seen had kinds of diamonds at the end of their barrels, this one had plain black filters, like a camera. A colossal camera, nevertheless. He decided to ignore it and went to turn on the TV. There was no sound but the noise of interferences, and the image was so distorted that he could just barely recognize the BBC logo on a corner. Wait, the guy on the screen, wasn't it his father ? And the girl in blue, Mrs Beauregard ? He couldn't be sure, as colors were about the only things he could distinguish. He turned it off, and looked at the Oompa Loompas with hatred. The midgets, standing at a respectable distance, had their eyes stuck on him and their mouths distorted by a rictus, as if they were holding back a laughter.

"Oh, yeah," shouted Mike, "I bet it makes you laugh ! What did you do, set some kind of electromagnetic field to cut off the transmissions with the outside ? And you think you're gonna get away with it ? No, guys, you lose, we're never gonna surrender to you !"

And with rage, he tried to kick the one standing the closest to him, but the dwarf dodged it with grace and sneered. Mike thought he would go berserk. With the rocket chase earlier, he was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He ran across the room, then up the stairs, to arrive in front of the console. There was sure something to do in it. All this installation was not here only to make a TV work. He examined it: a flat black monitor inlaid in the console, surrounded by buttons and levers of different size and color. It looked like it was designed to be handled by a child... the genius went immediately to work, turning on the monitor a manipulating the commands expertly to get to the information he wanted. The screen displayed:

_Experimental television-transportation system, v 3.0_

_Press Enter to proceed_

_Press Help for informations_

Television-transportation ? What was that, a teleporter ? He found a small green button with the mention _Help_. He pushed it, and a new screen was displayed. Mike read carefully, and read it again, just to be sure he had understood well. This was... crazy. He had no other word for that. Apparently, the system was meant to change particles of matter into waves, thus theorically allowing a subject to travel using wave-transportation systems, which meant basically all kinds of communication systems, televisions, mobile phones, computers... computers ? Suddenly, there came a memory, of a past event, something he had read earlier, on the screen of a fake computer... _unless you can turn yourself into a pack of high-frequency waves and reach the core by teleportating into the cyberspace, little boy, you have no chance to take control of my wonderful Factory_. Wonka had written this to tease him, but now... now he _could _indeed turn himself into high-frequency waves and teleport into the cyberspace, therefore he had, with this device, access to the oh so desired Central Computer...

_Wow, wait a minute, Big Mike ! This is only theory. Do you realise that the amount of power needed to convert particles into waves would be equivalent to nine nuclear bombs ? Besides, there has never been any valid scientifical proof of the existence of the cyberspace. It's only metaphysical speculation !_

Perhaps, but judging by its size, and all the... wonders he had seen, Mike was positive that the Factory could easily produce the energy needed. It was so insane that everything seemed possible. As for where he would land if he tried... well, it was a risk to be taken. He typed _Enter_. New instructions appeared on the screen. According to them, he grabbed a blue lever and pulled it down. A mechanical humming could be heard, and the white platform slowly rose from the ground, as a plexiglas tube, as large as the platform, appeared from the ceiling. Okay, now, time to go. He pushed a big red button, and immediately he jumped over the console to land smoothly on the platform. He had a second of uncertainty. Would it work ? The plexiglas tube went down and rejoined the platform, locking Mike inside, like a fish in his aquarium. He was beginning to stress, now. Around him, the Oompa Loompas showed no expression. They just watched. The boy's breathing went faster. Then, his feet were pulled off the ground. Smoothly, he was now levitating in the middle of his glass cell. The big cameras pointed their triple scopes at him, and the boy could see a pale light growing in the filters. He was about to go, and he didn't know where he would fall. He lifted his hand in the air, in a fashion dancing move _à la _Travolta, and at this moment a blinding but soundless flash illuminated the area. When it faded, the glass booth was empty. Mike was gone.

Violet and Alex, on their side, were trying to be as flat as possible on their pipe. The WonkaBots were suspecting something, and they were scanning the pipe jungle using searchlights they had produced from their armors. And they were getting closer to the two kids...

"Let's go," whispered Alex, "follow me."

They gingerly began to crawl along the pipe, trying to remain in the shadow as much as possible. The idea was to follow the pipe to reach the bridge, as close to a door as possible, so as to leave without being detected. It could have worked... if Violet had not slid and, as a reflex, hit the pipe with her knee. The knock it produced did not echo, due to the constant sound of flowing liquid that covered all noises, but it was just enough for a WonkaBot to hear. It pointed its searchlight to their direction, and the light arrived right on Aleksey's head. Caught ! The robot emitted a high-pitched alarm-like noise, calling to it all its counterparts, and opened fire.

Alex had just the time to jerk back before the laser beams destroyed the part of the pipe he was on a second before, letting gallons and gallons of red substance flow freely on the platform, flooding it and splashing the Bots which actually didn't care much, focused as they were on the destruction of the target. But it created a distraction which was useful for the two kids, who had the time to jump out of their pipe to another one which was hidden behind two others. They decided it was a safe place and sat there. Violet gasped.

"Holy... they tried to kill us ?"

"Sure they did. Didn't you get anything from what I've been explaining for a good fifteen minutes ?"

"Yes, I did, but... it didn't seem so _real_ to me, until I saw that..."

"Of course, people only believe what they see... but now, we'll have to think of an escape..."

On these words, he stood up and took off his coat.

"Wait, what are you doing ?"

"Going to get us an escape."

"You're not gonna fight a dozen of these machines, are you ?"

"I don't see any other way."

"One against twelve ? Alex, you don't need to commit suicide to impress me, I'm not that kind of girl."

"Listen, I'm a professional and I promised your mother that I'd bring you back safe, so shut up and stay still. They'll be searching for me, they don't know you're here. If things go wrong, I'll try to contain them until you get away."

He didn't give her the occasion to talk back as he left right away. She obeyed him, though she felt greatly offended by his behavior.

"Brainless cock," she hissed. Behind her, on the platform, the sounds of lasers could be heard. The battle had begun... she decided to leave her hideout and get closer to see if he was as strong as he thought he was...

The WonkaBots all had their sensors pointed towards where they thought the target was, when an object flew out of the pipe maze in their direction. They didn't shoot, just observed it falling in the red fluid that was now coating the platform's floor. The object was a black coat. The Bots, being machine, didn't even think that it was a decoy. Until...

One of the WonkaBots that was in the back was suddenly pushed forward, so brutally that it lost balance and fell in the middle of its counterparts. All the other robots turned on themselves to face the boy in black armed with his whip. The Bot closest to him was the first to react, and it pointed its laser at him.

_Impulse._

The whip cracked in the air so fast that it was barely seen, and the arm of the robot was ripped apart in a burst of sparks. Aleksey then winded his whip at the basis of the cylindrical body, and jerked it back to make it fall. The other Bots chose this moment to open fire.

_Impulse._

The laser beams shot at nothing, as the enemy vanished in the air right before their electric eyes. He re-appeared in the middle of a group of four WonkaBots. Immediately, one of these produced a straight cutting laser, like an energy blade, and swung it around, but Alex dodged and the blade decapitated another Bot instead. Snake got up, and with a single movement, he managed to wind his whip around the barrels of the three Bots remaining, then he tossed his weapon over his head as strongly as he could, thus ripping off the lasers and dragging them with it.

Violet, from her position, saw everything, and she couldn't help but observe his technique with the interest of the martial artist she was, even if she couldn't see clearly because of the crazy speed at which he was attacking. She saw the whip flying in the air with the steel limbs it had cut off, and then Alex proceeded to fight bare hands, using a very strange combination of straight, powerful kicks that came definitely from karate, and smooth and vicious open-hand attacks that consisted in hitting the joints with the side of his hands or digging in the sensors with the tips of his fingers, which broke the machines down almost immediately. Violet had heard of such techniques, they came from a style of kung-fu called "snake fist" and they were meant to kill people... or at least, that's what she was told.

The whip finally fell back down as Alex finished his third opponent. He greatly enjoyed his speed on these occasions, but the drawbacks were coming, his cruel lack of stamina, and he already began to feel tired. With normal people it would've taken less time, but these machines were very tough. He rolled to his whip, grabbed it, and striked at the first enemy he saw, but the speed wasn't there anymore, and he got caught by surprise by a Bot that hit him from behind, between the shoulderblades. Snake fell on his tummy, and before he could get up, the Bot extended its pincer-like hand, grabbed him by the forehead, and lifted him over the ground, like a fisherman lifting his prey. Snake struggled, and kicked the robot in a sensor, breaking it with his spur. The Bot responded by slamming him down like a wrestler. Then it lifted him again, and the reptilian boy began to have a bad feeling about the issue of the fight. That's when another robot got pushed off the ground with violence and was properly thrown out of the platform. The other robots, surprised (if a robot could ever be surprised) considered this new enemy that came out of nowhere, a little blue girl with killer eyes.

_Yaaaahhh !_

Violet screamed like a hawk, and jumped to the first robot in her way to rip off its arms with a roundhouse kick, then kicked its body, bounced on it, kicked another Bot three times while she was still in the air, landed back on her feet, rolled back, and performed a somersault to arrive perching on the first Bot's head, all of this in less than five seconds ! Waw, she didn't know she could do that ! But the rage wasn't finished, without controlling herself, she grabbed the antenna on the robot's head with both hands and ripped it apart, then jumped to strike it with the side of her hand, vertically, from the head to the tracks, with the exact same move she did to break planks... and with the exact same effect: the robot was properly split in two ! Alex chose this moment to fight back: he grabbed the steel arm that was holding him and used all his strength to bend it like a spoon, until it broke down, and then he dug his fingers in the broken sensor, destroying the electronic brain of his enemy. It was a massacre ! Violet, on her side, had destroyed another Bot with a hammer kick in the head, and thrown a third one out of the platform. Snake grabbed a robot in a bear hug and threw it against a counterpart. None of the two kids could tell how long the rampage lasted, as they had both gone berserk, Violet of a predatory rage that burned like fire and Alex of a cold but merciless killer instinct, but at the end there were just the two of them, standing among the wrecks of their enemies, soaked with blood red liquid, like the two last survivors of a war. Violet sighed. Alex sighed. And they both collapsed like two drunkards after a binge.

"I'm exhausted," complained Violet, whose heavy sweating was mixing with the red juice on her blue body. She had a look at her sidekick, who seemed to be in a worse state than her: he was not sweating a drop, but his skin had taken an unhealthy red color, and his veins were swollen.

"You have good reasons," he said, "what you did was almost... superhuman."

"Thanks, I'm very surprised myself, you know. I guess I was really pissed off to do that. What could I say about you ? That speed, and that technique... is that kung-fu ?"

"No, not at all... I learned a few notions of karate when I was younger, but most of my fighting is purely instinctive. That's one of the advantages of my hybrid condition."

"You're not sweating..."

"Snakes don't sweat."

"Is that really serious ? Are you really some kind of snake-man hybrid ?"

"Hard to believe, right ? My organism allows me to strike very, very fast if I want, but I have no endurance at all. After a few seconds, my speed decreases, and if I don't calm down, I end up being hot, nervous and breathless, and I've got to stop until I recover. Until I _chill out_. That's very annoying, especially when you have to fight that kind of enemy. I never fought robots before, and I think I wouldn't have done it without you. Thank you, Violet."

She blushed, her cheeks taking a light purple shade. "I think I'm the one supposed to thank you. If you hadn't come, I would have let the Oompa Loompas take me. I'm sorry to have doubted you, Alex."

"James... my real name is James. And before you ask, I've never been Kazakh, though I used to live there. I'm as American as you are."

"I think I guessed it... after all, you have no accent at all. Besides... I didn't buy the sixth ticket story. I already knew there was something strange in you when I saw you, because you looked too much like..."

"Like what ?"

"Nothing. Just forget it, it's silly... tell me... do your fists hurt ?"

"Like hell."

"Me too... that metal body... it's quite tough. I hope we won't have to fight others like that, I don't know if I could stand it."

At this very moment, as if someone had heard her fear and made it come true, the two doors opened, just like before, and another squad of WonkaBots erupted into the room. None of the two kids had the courage to stand up and fight, they just silently watched the robots surrounding them. They were even too tired to be afraid. They just felt a bitter and desperate disappointment. They had lost, this time...

Mike was standing on a plastic ground, and was completely disoriented. What had happened ? Had it really worked ? In front of him, he saw the white Television Room exactly the way he had left it, with the plexiglas booth, the laser, the couch... but it seemed very close yet very distant at the same time. As if he was seeing it through a pair of binoculars. He took off his goggles, thinking that the impression could come from that, but it wasn't that. He then began to walk forward, but he was stopped by an invisible barrier, like a glass between him and the room, but as he touched it, he felt like electricity emanating from it and tickling his fingers. The same kind of sensation as he felt when he touched his TV screen... TV screen ! That was it ! He was watching at the room from the other side of the TV screen ! He had been turned into waves and jacked into the TV ! _It had worked. _For a moment, he forgot his current situation and thought that he, Michael Teavee, twelve years old, from Denver, Colorado, was the first human ever to be teleported into a television. But now, how would he leave that screen and get to the cyberspace ? Uh-oh, now he realised that he'd been so focused on jacking in that he had never thought of what to do once inside. But then, a strange noise came to his ears, it sounded like a techno/rock rythm... he turned round to face a gigantic, titanesque Oompa Loompa dressed in a formal suit and holding papers. He was sitting at the desk and looked like a journalist. The desk ? Yeah, Mike realised that the ground he was standing on, which seemed to him large as three football grounds, was actually a desk for the Oompa Loompa. The creature was not a giant, it was him who was not bigger than a human finger ! How could it happen ? What could have modified his size during the convertion between particles and waves ? He tried to focus on all the theories he knew about high-frequency waves, but that awful music wouldn't let him concentrate. Then, the Oompa Loompa began to sing:

_The most important thing that we've ever learned,_

_The most important thing that we've ever learned as far as children as concerned,_

_Is never, never let them get,_

_Too close to the TV set._

_Or better yet, just don't install,_

_The idiotic thing at all !_

The whole time the song had lasted had been a living Hell for the poor undersized Mike who was dragged from a place to another, as abruptly as if someone was switching channels. From the news broadcast, he arrived on a frying pan with a cook Oompa Loompa, then he switched to a boxing ring where he got punched by toy boxers, then he landed on the drums of a hard rock band, to pass by a Beatles concert, and he even passed a whisker away from being stabbed by a knife-carrying Oompa Loompa in a black and white shower scene that came from _Psycho _!

_Never let them, never never let them !_

_It rots the senses in their mind,_

_It leaves their brain cells far behind,_

_And then that boy can't understand a fairytale, a fairyland !_

_A fairytale ! A fairyland !_

After two good minutes of that treatment, he appeared back on the journalist's desk... just in time to be splashed like an insect by his sheets. He didn't feel any pain, but everything, around him, went dark and silent. There was nothing anymore. He was all alone in the dark, like lost in another dimension where the world doesn't exist and there's only the Emptiness. Even the screen, with the white room behind, had disappeared.

"Uh... hi !" he called, insecure. "Is there anyone here ? Oh, damn... what did I do ? What if I can't find the way out ?"

He gasped as panick began to grow.

"Calm down, Mike, you are in the Matrix, and it's a bug. You've seen that movie a million times, so you know everything about virtual worlds."

Of course, except that he'd never been confronted to one before. He began wandering all over, not knowing where he was going - could you tell where you're going when you have absolutely nothing to use as a landmark ? - and reviewing all the theories he knew. None of them was of any help. Then suddenly, he perceived a green spot flickering dimly a few meters in front. He walked to it, and when he was very close to that small green spot in the middle of nothing, he couldn't believe what he saw. The spot formed a symbol, which he recognized immediately:

_C:\_

This was the prompt of a DOS-type command line interface. He was into the system ! In the very inside, in the soul of the machine, in its deepest depth, from where everything seemed possible. A tear of joy rolled down his cheek. _Central Computer... I broke you. I don't know how I did, but I found your heart, and now you're mine_. He reached out his hand and touched the symbol. A line immediately appeared under:

_Incorrect function or command._

Just like the good old DOS... he thought about it. What if he asked it the way to the main program ? From there, he would have some landmark to work... the prompt immediately changed to form this text:

_C:\ WWFactory Computer Network/a:query?opening session_

So he controlled it with his mind... cool. Looked like a good address... he touched the C:\, and another text appeared, this time not in command lines anymore:

_Willy Wonka Factory Operating System_

_Designed by Microsoft Inc._

_Please Select Your Session:_

_- Maintenance_

_- Production & Quality Control_

_- Security_

_- Administrator System_

He glanced at the _Security _option, but eventually selected _Administrator System_. The text changed again:

_login:_

_password:_

He naturally entered _willywonka _as login, but the password made him hesitate... he tried _chocolate _but he found out the right word contained six letters... _candy _? Not enough letters. What could it be, in six letters ? Oh, how silly he was ! Was he the king of hackers or not ? He mentally asked to have the interface switched in command lines, and here is how it came:

_C:\ WWFactory Computer Network/a:query?opening session/adminaccess/login.asp_

Okay, that was the right address, he just needed to add something at the end. A crack he had discovered in Half-Life, and which could work for actually a lot of other applications, but no-one before him had ever tried:

_C:\ WWFactory Computer Network/a:query?opening session/adminaccess/login.asp -dev -console_

The console, the emergency test subprogram installed by the operator to prevent any system crash, which virtually everybody ignored the existence. Once the console activated, nothing in the local network could remain inaccessible. He entered, and it went back to the login menu:

_login: willywonka²_

_password:_

Great ! The symbol on the login meant that the console was working properly. He just had to ask politely, and all the doors would open before him. On the password line, he simply said: _enter password_. Now, the console just had to search for the right password for him. It took it a few seconds to find it... interesting. Mike didn't know what this word really referred to. Maybe something in Wonka's personal life... he would've never found by himself, for sure. He entered... and everything went crazy around him. Suddenly, it seemed that life was emerging and a new world was taking shape before his eyes: thousands, millions, billions of green command lines raced around him, forming circles around their new master, moving like animated by a kind of intelligence and even sometimes making contact with him, filling his brain with an unthinkable amount of informations. Mike knelt down and raised his arm, as to receive a divine blessing: he felt knowledge growing in him, and from knowledge grew power, the power to control this world that had become his own. Wonka had lost checkmate. You can't fight a God, and that's exactly what he had become, a God in the Machine. A Deus Ex Machina.

"Guess it's all over ?" whispered Violet with relinquishment.

"It is," replied James. "We're much too weak to fight them. And I guess it's no use to hope for a miracle to happen..."

"I was wrong earlier... I don't want to die..."

James raised his hand in front of her. "Anyway," he said, "I was happy to meet you. And Veruca, and Mike, and all the others. You are wonderful friends, I would just have liked we met in other circumstances..."

She took his hand and squeezed it desperately. Here eyes were wet. "Bye, James..."

Around them, the WonkaBots extended their lasers and pointed them at the kids who were waiting for their fate. They both thought that their respective careers had been short ones. Violet wished her mother had been a real mother to her, and not only a coach. James wished... nothing. He had too many regrets to wish anything. Already, a red gleam could be seen inside the cruel barrels. Soon, the energy they contained would be released and... nothing happened. All of a sudden, the lights in the barrels disappeared and the Bots stood still, like statues. There was not a light, not a sound, nor any kind of sign of an artificial life emanating from them. They were like dead, all of them. The kids got up, slowly, trying to stand properly in spite of their painful legs. What was happening ? Then, a familiar voice came out of nowhere and echoed throughout the room, like the voice of God. Except that in this case, God had the voice of a twelve-year-old boy:

"Hey, guys ! How are you doing ?"

"Mike ?" asked Violet.

"Surprise ! I did it ! Told you I could do it, Snake !"

"You've reached the Central Computer ?" he couldn't believe it.

"Better than that, buddy ! I found a way to teleport myself in the very inside of the system. I'm into the cyberspace, and from here I broke into the Core System !"

"So you control all the facility ?"

"Not yet. There are so many informations, and it's all coming so fast. I still don't know where to begin, the first thing I did was to try to find you... and I also found the command to stop the WonkaBots. Just in time, it seems..."

"You can't figure out how good it is to hear you, Mike !" screamed Violet, who was almost crying with the emotion. "Without you, we would be... Mike, I've been observing you since the beginning of the Tour and until we got separated, and I'm sure there's something you're just craving to hear from me, so I'll say it now, cause you deserved it: Mike, you are my hero !"

"Th-th-thank you, Violet... I don't know what to say..." his voice appeared emotional and embarrassed.

"Mike," asked Snake, "have you found the others ?"

"I'm searching... Augustus is nowhere to be found. I was with him for a moment but we got separated and... well, I don't know where he is. As for our two lovebirds... what's that ? Holy shit... holy shit ! _Holy Shit !_"

"What's going on, Mike ?" asked Violet.

His response, not addressed to her, froze her blood still:

"Charlie ! Can you hear me ? Charlie, wake up, pal ! Charlie ? _Charlie !_"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next chapter, as you may guess, will deal with Charlie and Veruca. Remember the bad position they were left in ? I won't take so long to update, this time... at least, I hope so...


	19. Black Heart part 2: Out Of The Darkness

Finally, here has come the chapter for those who always wanted to know what happened to Veruca and Charlie ! Another pretty intense chapter, that's why it took me so long. I'd like to put it a warning, though: there have been all kinds of sick, Silent Hill-ish images that kept popping in my head as I was writing, and therefore some parts in this chapter could be considered slightly disturbing... I myself still don't know what I could possibly eat to have these kinds of ideas... well, you're here to get spooked, aren't you ?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Terrified, the young boy just barely avoided his beloved mother's claw-like fingernails as she tried to hit him.

"Mommy !" he screamed as he mounted two stairs to withdraw from her. "What's happening, Mommy ? You're scaring me !"

"Shut up !" she shouted. "It's all your fault, you worthless little prick !"

Charlie gasped in shock, and tears began to roll silently down his cheeks. He just couldn't believe what he heard. His mother had never, never spoken to him like that ! But that thing, in the staircase, was not his mother. She had the face, the hair and clothes, but she was so horribly changed ! First, she seemed to float in her clothes. Of course, they were a poor family and nobody was fat, but there, she was skinny to the point of starvation, like a skeleton with skin. Her cheeks were hollow and her orbits neatly visible, as if her skin had become thinner than cigarette paper. So thin that even the shape of her teeth could be distinguished behind her lips !

"Mommy... what happened to you ?"

She looked up at him, with her white blind, dead eyes. Two tears of dark chocolate rolled down her cheeks without her to blink.

"What happened ? You want to know... what happened !"

She mounted a stair. Charlie jerked back but his foot hit the stair behind him and he found himself laying down in the staircase.

"I'll tell you what happened," she screeched, "it wasn't that hard to get in that Factory and get the prize ! You had the chance of your life to save the family from starvation, and you failed !"

"What are you talking about ?"

She began to move towards him, this ghostly figure, empty shell of what used to be his dear mommy, and he was totally mesmerized by her, to a point he didn't even try to get up.

"All you were asked, Charlie, was to behave yourself in front of Mr Wonka. You used to be such a nice boy, we were sure Mr Wonka would appreciate you better than those five other brats, and give you the prize... but instead, what did you do ? You wreaked havoc in his wonderful Factory, you put his life in danger, and for what ? For a snotty little bitch and her pet snake !"

"What ? Mom, I didn't do anything, I swear ! The Snake... he began everything !"

"And you followed him ! You followed him to impress your b..."

"Mom, stop it !" he began to sobber hysterically.

"Have you seen it ? I'm sure you have... the Factory's on fire. You destroyed this wonderful place... and all our hopes with it... there is nothing to eat anymore, now. Can you see how skinny I am because of you ?"

She rolled up her sleeve to show him her bare white forearm. It looked as if there was nothing anymore between the skin and the bone. Charlie's cheeks lost all their colors when he saw that. _This isn't real, _he thought, _it can't be real !_

Then the mother climbed in a row the last stairs that separated her from him, and fell on her little boy to pin him down. Her eerie face was extremely close to him, her empty eyes connected to his blue eyes. She had no breath at all. Like an undead.

"I have no choice, now," she whispered with the voice of a pneumonic person, "I have to do what is right to save the rest of the family. Charlie, it's all by your fault, but I forgive you. Your sacrifice will be much appreciated."

"What does it mean ?"

"We're gonna have to eat you, sweetheart."

Charlie didn't have the time to answer. He had just come to cope with that stunning, horrid information, when the thing pretending to be his Mom tried to comfort him with an ugly gurgling voice as she was vomitting some kind of dark blood:

"But don't worry, you won't feel anything..."

That's when the blood poured on his sweater that the little boy had the survival reflex of the century: he lifted his leg and brutally dug his knee in his mother's stomach. She coughed in surprise and Charlie shoved her back before he attempted to get up, but the weak wooden stairs suddenly gave way under his feet, and he fell below, on a floor where, to his surprised, there was water up to his shins. It was flooded ! So that's where the noise of dripping water he could hear ever since he took the infinite stairway came from !

"Chaaarliiiie..." his mother chanted, and he barely avoided her when she tried to catch him by passing her arm through the hole. He stepped out of her range. He didn't know what to do, he didn't know how to react. If _that _was his mother, she had gone completely insane ! Could it be true ? Could his actions have endangered his whole family and pushed them to eat each others to stay alive ?

"I knooooooow you're doubting, sweetheart," Mrs Bucket resumed, with the eerie voice of a chanting witch. "Come on, let yourself go... if not for me, then do this at least for your poor grandparents..."

"No..." he replied, weeping. "This is not real... it can't be real !"

He turned round and pointed his light in front of his eyes to pierce through the darkness. That was... all was there: the table, where some cabbage was stored, the rusty sink, the hotplate with the only big casserole they had put on, and even the water-heater which, just like the wall it was fixed on, was curiously leaning to the left like the Pisa Tower. It was his kitchen. He was definitely home, but... something was just wrong with that place, it was like reaching an alternate reality where darkness and evil rule and everything is wicked, a whole different, parallel world of shadows. Maybe even _the _other world.

"It's okay, Charlie," a familiar male voice whispered from behind, as a comforting hand rested on his shoulder. He turned round, but he didn't have the time to see if the person was who he was expecting as the comforting hand suddenly became aggressive and grabbed him by the throat. Charlie tried to struggle but the man was strong and soon, he ended up leaning against the kitchen table, on his back, as the man's two hands had a powerful grip on him. He was trying to choke him. The boy moved his light to see the man's face: it was his own father ! But he was different, he also had that living dead appearance, with his pale thin skin, horribly skinny body, and empty eyes. It was crazy !

"We don't want to hurt you !" he said. "But we've got no choice, you must think of your grandparents. Stay still, and you won't feel a thing !"

But Charlie, for the first time ever, disobeyed his parents and began to struggle helplessly, with a hand gripping his father's wrist, trying to make him lose grip, while the other was searching frenetically behind him, among the cabbage, for the butcher's knife which was usually there. He didn't want to hurt his father, but he had to save his own life, and _that _living dead thing was _not _his father ! To his distress, there was no knife on the table. Dead Daddy started to press his thumb against the helpless child's carotid, causing great pain immediately followed by a sense of numbness. He could breathe, but he didn't even try. He was being slower and slower in his moves, as red and black shadows began to dance in front of his eyes, blurring his vision. He wanted to sleep... why ? Why was his beloved father killing him ? Something was not right, his parents would never behave like that... never... he remembered the last time he saw him, a few minutes before he left for the Factory, he had looked at him seriously but lovingly, giving them his last advices in a man-to-man conversation, and he handed him the razorblade he was supposed to use in case of...

_The blade ! _Of course, he still had that razorblade in his pocket ! Gathering his last strengths, he plunged his hand in his pocket and came out with the unfolded weapon, which he struck towards his father at random. There was an inhuman cry of pain, and Charlie's throat was suddenly liberated from the pressure, and air filled his lungs again, setting his senses and vision back to normal. Dead Daddy stepped back, staggering, his hands hiding his face, his body shaking and distorted by the suffering. Charlie looked at the blade in his hand to see it stained with a thick dark blood. Oh, no... what had he done ?

Dead Daddy, in front of him, regained a sort of composure, and took his hands out of his face. His left eye, where the blade had stabbed, was no more than a gross accumulation of blood, nerves, fibres, and aqueous eye fluid, that mixed with the blood and flowed down the cheek. Half of the man's face was red. He cried:

"What have you done ? After all those sacrifices we did for you, that's the way you thank us, Charlie ? By stabbing your own father in the face ? You bad son !"

He tried to come back to him, but Charlie swung his blade towards him to keep him away.

"Stay back !" he cried in panick. "I had no choice ! You... you wanted to kill me, Dad !"

The boy instinctively stepped back, and his butt eventually hit the dining table. His father stayed at a distance, and Dead Mommy got down the stairs to stand on her husband's side. They both had, on their blank eyes and skully faces, the saddened expression of parents whose child is too stubborn to learn a lesson.

"Charlie," began his mother with the same soft voice as recorded on the tape that brought him here, "believe us, we tried to spare you. We're just so hungry ! We tried to find other food, because we love you, Charlie, but... she wasn't enough."

"What are you talking about ? Who is she ?"

"Just look behind you, dear..."

_No, _he thought, _they want me to look behind so they'll be able to catch me when I'm not watching. _He decided that the best would be to stand against the wall opposite to the door, so that he would be far enough from his parents while having his back protected. Then, he would have a look. He began to move, his parents just followed him with their eyes. Arrived near the wall, he stepped on a small, soft object. Without pointing his light and his eyes out of his parents, he slowly bent down, picked up the item, and put it in the light to have a look: it was a black slipper, a girl's shoe. And it looked familiar... so familiar... with a shiver, he turned his trembling hand and pointed his light at the dining table. What he saw there was the most inhumane thing his imagination could ever conceive come true: on the table laid a human-looking body, of the size of a child. Human _looking _because it was too atrociously mutilated to tell what it was with precision: the whole body was roasted, like a steak on the barbecue, and most of the flesh on the calves, back, and sides had been ripped apart, and as Charlie dared a closer look, he noticed tooth marks around the mutilations. Like bitten. And the butcher's knife was here, blood-stained, near the body's leg. So that meant his family... his parents... they had gone as far as to roast and eat a child ! Mesmerized by this morbid discovery, he came even closer, trying to see the child's face, but there was nothing left that could be identified, except a bare row of irregular teeth, a pair of blue eyes, and... a pair of dragonfly-shaped clips in the charred hair. _Oh, no ! _He looked at the body and to his greatest distress, he saw what he dreaded, a burnt pink rag around the waist that used to be a dress. _Oh, my ! _And that black shoe, to finish, that had seemed so familiar...

He choked, and for a moment, it seemed that his heart and all his body functions had stopped in sheer disgust. Then, the pain came.

"Assholes !" he yelled at his parents. He looked at them, but the tears blurred his vision. "How could you ? She was innocent, she didn't deserve that ! You are monsters !"

The parents tried again to approach him, and the poor boy was too shocked to think of repelling them with his blade. Instead, he slowly walked back and leaned against the wall, sobbing.

"That brat was nothing but trouble," pestered Dead Mommy. "I assure you she wasn't fit for you. She and her snake only managed to sabotage the Tour. Everything's her own fault."

"I know it seems cruel to you," continued Dead Daddy, much more softly, his stabbed eye still dripping blood, "but it's a hard time for everyone, and sometimes we have to do things that would disgust us in order to survive."

"But," whined Charlie, "There's always another way ! You can't kill someone !"

"What did you try to do to me, Charlie ?"

The little boy had no answer. He just kept sobbing more and more silently.

"Charlie... my son..." on these words, Dead Daddy put a hand on his shoulder. The boy had a start of repulsion and shoved the hand away. He shrieked:

"Don't touch me ! Don't touch me, you freak ! I hate you ! I hate you all !"

A harsh raspy voice came from his left and answered to him:

"Is that a way to talk to your parents, Charlie ? It's not how you were brought up, ungrateful son !"

The boy turned his shaking light in the direction of that new voice, and saw his grandparents' bed, which he had completely forgotten. The voice, he recognized it, was the one of Grandpa George.

"Grandpa George ?" he asked with a glimmer of hope in his voice. Maybe the old people had not turned freaks. But he quickly came to realise there was no way out of this nightmare: the four grandparents were indeed there, in their bed, as usual. Only there was no possible difference between the people and their bed, now: the sheets and blankets seemed to have fused with the old folks who had themselves fused with the bed frame, all of this forming only one entity, a grotesque imitation of a bed which actually consisted of a disordonate and repulsive accumulation of shapeless flesh mixed with wood and clothes. From that sickening and amorphous meat loaf stuck out eight naked arms ended by unusually long, thin, three-fingered hands, and four faces that were so distorted that Charlie barely recognized his beloved grandparents.

He did not say a single thing, too overwhelmed he was by the sudden twist of events. All his family had run out of control. Zombies or mutants, something had happened to them, and now they were about to eat him ! But there was another thing bugging him, that somehow helped him not to pass out: he was afraid, but not terrified. The dark, flooded house, the dead parents, the mutant bed, the roasted girl... it seemed way too over the top, like a gratuitous escalation of horror that didn't sound right. He felt in a way detached from the events because of his impression of being the only real thing here. Though that didn't prevent his heart from ponding like crazy and the adrenaline from filling his brain and blurring his mind, when the bed moved by itself, using its posts like four tiny legs, to rejoin his parents. Now, he was against the wooden wall, and his family was all around him. He was surrounded by their grim smiling faces.

"See how we look ?" said Grandpa Joe. "We all trusted you, but we just forgot how naïve you were."

"We told you not to trust strangers," continued Grandma Josephine.

"And here comes a snotty brat who on her own makes you lose all common sense and you start rampaging around, causing you to be booted off the Tour with no prize !" ended Grandpa George.

"At least, she tasted good," added Grandma Georgina. "I like dragonflies."

And suddenly, out of nowhere, came the sound of an accordion, playing some kind of strange, fast and crazy tune. And at that moment, all the members of the family started singing at the same time, with screeching voices that made the boy gnash his teeth:

_Dragonflies, _

_In her hair,_

_Wide-eyed smile,_

_Looks pure and clear._

_Like a Widow,_

_Spins her web,_

_Young and shallow,_

_You're under her sway !_

_Boys and girls, gather round !_

_Come to see this poor little clown !_

_So naïve and so trusting,_

_And she was so rich and cunning._

_But now it's time to pay the price,_

_You'll never never get fooled twice !_

_Oven-glazed, or à la broche,_

_What a tasty little posh !_

_Wait, little lad, don't be sad !_

_You'll be glad to end up her side !_

_You can boil or roast to the heart,_

_Come, choose your ending à la carte !_

_You were loved, you were nice, but, now there's only one thing left,_

_To do is Kick the Bucket !_

_Kick the Bucket !_

Charlie remained motionless, watching them singing, not knowing what to do. His legs were slowly giving way under him, until he ended up crouched down in the cold water. That's where he suddenly saw what to do: the table was right behind his father ! He just had to pass under to reach the exit. The parents were closing in. He waited. They were getting closer as the song progressed, but it wouldn't last... now ! The boy braced himself and performed a forward roll right between his father's legs to arrive under the table. He had broken through, but it wasn't done yet, and he had no time to lose ! He crawled under the table as fast as he could and reached the other side. The exit was barely two meters away ! He began to stand up, when he felt like being grabbed by the collar and pulled back. He was brutally laid down on the table, and as he looked, expecting to see his parents who had been faster than expected, his eyes met those of the roasted kid ! How could it be ? She had come back to life, and she was holding him with her bony fingers, her blue eyes gleaming in the dark yet showing no expression, as she stretched the charred remains of her lips in an imitation of a cruel smile, and she started singing with her little girl's voice left oddly unaltered by her status:

_It's not as horrid as it seems,_

_Relax, I bet you'll like this !_

_It's even quite a bliss,_

_To share one last family meal..._

That was too much for Charlie. He had reached a point where he only worked by instinct. Thus, he didn't think twice when he grabbed the butcher's knife on the table and used it to cut off the girl's arm that was restraining him. She didn't produce that high-pitched screech he was dreading. Instead, she just gasped in surprise and began to weep, exactly like a little girl who got hurt by a bigger guy, and this for Charlie was maybe worse. The boy stepped back, confused, the knife in one hand, the razorblade and the light in the other. His back was almost touching the exit door, but his mind wasn't focused on escaping anymore. He was just lost. What had he done ? The reaction was not normal. The music and the singing had stopped, the only sound audible now, except the soft lapping of water, was the whining of the dead girl who was nursing her sawed-off limb. His family, that hadn't moved, were giving him a reproachful look. Nobody was moving or speaking, and that made the atmosphere unbearable. That was _not _the way living-deads were supposed to behave !

"Mommy," he risked, "Daddy ? Are you..."

"Get him," Daddy replied blankly.

And all of a sudden, the ambience changed drastically: from the eerie party atmosphere they had passed to an anguishing silence, and now they were all in a sort of rage, the parents and the dead kid rushed to him, while the mutant bed leapt, like a frog, to land on him and pin him down. His reflex saved his life once again: he quickly turned back and opened the door, and dove out of the house faster than the wind ! The bed landed downright where he was a second before, between the parents and the door, and tried to follow Charlie. By a great chance, it was too large to pass through, and it was blocking the access to the parents. The boy slammed the door and leant on it, pushing as hard as he could. There was a violent jerk. And another. And a third one. And it stopped. Everything went quiet, not a noise could be heard from behind the door. Charlie concluded they had given up, and he allowed himself to relax and try to turn his breath back to normal. He was safe ! But it wasn't over. Something was going terribly wrong in and he had to...

A hand caressed his shoulder and interrupted his thoughts. Turning round, he found himself face to face with the roasted kid. He gasped. How did she follow him ? He didn't have time to think, though, as she pinned him against the door and pressed her dead body against his in a very suggestive manner. Too puzzled to react, he let her obscenely kiss his lips. It tasted like meat that was left a few days under a hot Summer sun. It was so horrible that he began to feel dizzy. For a short while, a great peace invaded him, as he told himself that after all, if _she _was dead, he had failed, and if his family was reduced to cannibalism, then it was a double failure and he'd rather die right away. Then, he felt her remaining hand touching his delicate throat, her fingers winding around it and slowly squeezing, as to choke him. He could feel the pain, and he found himself once again gasping for air, but he didn't try to struggle.

"That's it," whispered the dead child, "let yourself go... you don't have anything to do here anymore. Just come with me, and we'll live together for eternity... death is not as bad as it looks, trust me..."

And Charlie trusted her. He just waited for it to come...

_Help me ! Heeeeeeeeeelp !_

That scream gave Charlie a start and he instantly regained all his wits.

"What was that ?" he asked. But he didn't expect an answer, he knew it already: a very distant scream that seemed to come from below and echoed through the... wherever he was. It was Veruca's voice he had just heard. The _real _Veruca. Who was not _that _creature... the boy didn't think twice when his arm holding the butcher's knife swung before him and cut off the arm that was strangling him. The girl jerked back without a sound as he was recovering his breath. She considered her arms, both of them now shortened to the elbows. And what scared Charlie was that, once again, her reaction was unexpected: no scream, no tears, no cursing... she didn't look as upset as she should have been. As if nothing could affect her...

"What's happening, Charlie ? Why do you reject me ?"

Even the softness of her voice had something inappropriate, unreal...

"You're not her," he replied, his voice shaking. "I'm sure she's still alive, somewhere, and you can't be her."

"Charlie," she said as she made a step forward, "it's ridiculous, you know very well what happened in the Factory..."

"Don't move !" he threatened, keeping her at distance with his knife. "The thing is, I don't know what happened in the Factory, I'm not even sure of where I am... it's all blurry in my mind, and it seems so horrible, too much to be true... but I'm sure the real Veruca is still alive, somewhere, and I'm gonna find her. Now move out of my way !"

That was the first time he showed so much determination, and it surprised him as well as the dead kid. She paused, then she bared her teeth at him and yelled, suddenly losing her composure:

"You're mine, and no-one else will have you !"

And on these words, she rushed to him, pointing her severred limbs in front of her like spears. Charlie closed his eyes, squeezed the handle of the knife as strongly as he could, and striked forward. He felt his weapon penetrating the flesh, and he heard the body hit the ground. He opened his eyes, and saw her lying motionless, her throat cut wide open with no blood pouring out of it, as if she was already empty and dry, inside... and before he could blink, her body turned into dust and disappeared, letting nothing behind, not even the hairclips.

"She wasn't the real one," whispered Charlie, "no, she wasn't... she wasn't real..."

He stepped forward, carefully avoiding the area where the body was, and moved on. He tried not to think about her anymore. He had to concentrate on Veruca, now. Where was he ? It was like a fourth dimension, he had left his house but instead of arriving on the street, he was in a long quiet hallway made of wet rotting wood, as quiet and dark as the inside of a mine. All these incessant changes, from quietness to danger and back to quietness, were getting on his nerves badly. Focus, Charlie, focus on Veruca. That was right. He had to find her, and he wouldn't fail. He kept following the hallway...

Veruca was on her butt. Literally. Of course, she knew ever since she fell into that pod that the growling creature she'd meet inside wouldn't be a pleasant company, but _this _was utterly disgusting, and... and gigantic, and... definitely unfriendly. No wonder why she had let out such a whoop when she saw this: the muggy grassy floor she was sitting on was going on a gentle slope, like a basin, with a large and seemingly deep hole in its center. From the border of this hole were going a great deal of large and solid vegetal outgrowths which monstrous green roots went up to the ceiling and sometimes as far as the walls, like the distorted, leafless, tortured trees of a nightmarish alien jungle. All around the room were also laying a certain number of open plastic containers with different kinds of old food and plants gently rotting inside. _That must be the garbage that thing is usually fed with,_ the girl thought. But what really scared the girl was not the revolting smell of that "food" nor the threatening look of the "trees": from the hole in the middle, six strong green tentacles, similar in shape to oversized stems, were emerging and standing high, moving slowly to go caressing the distorted trees with a somewhat unhealthy insistance. To Veruca, it was no doubt that they were searching for food. Her scream when she saw them had awakened them, and they wanted their breakfast.

She saw, a few meters away from her, a tentacle bending down to stroke a food container. She watched it caressing it until it made contact with its content. Immediately, it stiffened, as if in excitement, and a lot of bright green leaves popped from the stem and rose with a breathing noise as they smelled the food. Then, the tentacle caught the container at lightning speed, like a whip, and brought it down into the hole. The next thing Veruca heard was a loud savage chewing followed by a deep roar that sounded like the loudest burp in the world. But it seemed that the creature hadn't been fed enough, as the tentacles then resumed their search. Veruca was sitting still, motionless. She didn't know exactly what these things could perceive, but maybe they were sensitive to motion. She squeezed her legs together and hugged them with her arms, so as to be as small as possible and control her shaking, and tried to breathe silently, though her instinct was ordering her to scream and run. It wasn't reassuring at all to be in the same room as an oversized carnivore plant, but yielding to panick and moving was surely the best way to end up in its stomach. It's amazing all the stupid things your instinct tells you to do when you're panicked. For example, when a car is coming at high speed and you're right on its way, the smartest thing to do is to jump aside, but no, that's not what you actually do. Out of fear, you do the dumbest thing in the world: you stiffen, and you wait for the car to crush you. What was happening to Veruca right now, was exactly the contrary.

She kept her saucer-wide eyes fixed on the closest tentacle, that was getting inexorably closer. The tip of the monstrous green stem eventually came to near contact with her face, which she managed to avoid by very hesitantly pulling her head back. But now, it was right in front of her eyes, so close that she was afraid that even wrinkling her nose might touch it. _So damn close_... she was shaking so much that she had to bite her own tongue to prevent her teeth from hitting each others, as it would produce a sound the monster might recognize. The heavy hot sweating she held from her short journey in the Blast Furnace had turned cold as a Scottish shower now. If that thing eventually caught her, would her death be short and painless or long and atrocious ? The sides of the tentacle, near the end, opened in a serie of narrow gill-like holes, and let out a hot breath that reeked of compost in the girl's face. She didn't flinch, although the smell was genuinely unbearable. It didn't seem to be enough for the monster. It left her face and went to "smell" her mink coat. It considered her arm for a few seconds that seemed like hours, and it slowly moved to her back. All along, she could hear the breath out of its gills and feel the warm sour air on her skin. She wanted to go... that monster was so close to her, and she couldn't even move ! Then suddenly, an unexpected pressure on her spine gave her a shudder and all her muscles contracted in sheer repulsion: that thing was _touching _her ! Just like it did to the container minutes before, it was caressing her coat with wanton attention._ It's trying to determine if I'm good food, _she told herself with horror. _If it ever touches my skin, it will know I'm a living being and it won't give me a chance. _She began to moan helplessly, in spite of all her efforts to stay in control. It was almost inaudible, and the thing didn't seem to notice. It kept examining the coat, intrigued, went back to her arm and proceeded to slowly follow it up to her shoulder. _Oh, no, it's coming to my face ! _She couldn't face it, she closed her eyes and kept them tight shut, waiting for it to come. She felt another foul breath on her face. She stopped breathing. A second breath came. Nothing else happened, but the girl's chest began to have painful spasms for lack of air. The monster gave no sign of anything... her head now felt like it would explode, she had to breathe ! It was getting harder and harder for the young girl to keep her mouth shut, and even breathing by the nose could make too much sound. She heard a third breath, but didn't feel it, and it seemed further away... she dared to open one eye, and the other: the tentacle had seemingly lost interest in her and was now browsing the grass a good meter away from her.

That was tight ! She allowed herself to breathe and let out a silent sigh... silent, but already too loud. The tentacle straight back in front of her, in a move so sudden that it gave the girl the most violent fright of her life. The plant took a deep breath and spread its large leaves, giving it a much more aggressive look. Caught ! The thing had heard her, and judging by its attitude, it definitely didn't want to have tea ! Veruca backed up in a reflex, but the monster was faster than her and lashed around her ankles, imprisoning them and making her fall face down on the grass. It then proceeded to pull her to the central hole. For the second time of the day, she was being dragged helpless to a dangerous hole, except that this time, there was no whip-toting mutant to save her at the last second. She squirmed, struggled, and kicked, with all her energy, but the vegetal grip was powerful and she was inexorably sliding into the hole. But then, as she was downright at the edge of the hole, ready to fall, she passed beside one of the distorted trees and grabbed one of its solid roots. The downfall stopped, letting her half-dangling over the pit, and below her, the tentacle was still pulling, stretching and hurting her legs, but she didn't yield and kept hugging the root as if her life was at stake - which was actually the case. She risked a look, forced by a fearful curiosity, to see what kind of natural monstrosity could lurk in that dark rotten pit. She wasn't disappointed, it was maybe the worst thing she'd ever seen in her life ! That's when a bizarre thought reached her brain, she told herself that the main feature of that Factory was that when you believed to have reached the most traumatizing experience ever, something worse would come right after. The hole hosted nothing but a mouth, a round, jawless, lipless, out-of-contest-sized mouth that looked like but a deep green hose fitted out with a dozen rows of long, sickle-like teeth that chattered as if with impatience. A deep growl similar to the one she heard in the generator room came from the depth of that endless throat. So _that _was the thing supposed to clean off the garbage ! Oh, God, it was ugly, and huge, and its teeth so sharp... _don't panick, don't panick, don't panick _! Unable to control herself any longer, she broke off in desperate screams:

"Help me ! Heeeeeeeeeeelp !"

She screamed her lungs off, as if someone could hear from that basement. Where were the others ? Were they still alive ? Maybe she was the only one remaining, after all ! Around, the other tentacles moved towards her, coming to help their fellow that was still pulling hard. She couldn't let them come, she wouldn't stand a chance against the six of them ! But how to break free ? The next thing she felt was a sensation of burn on her ankle, painful as if someone had poured denatured alcohol on a fresh wound ! Was that thing trying to melt down her leg, now ? Oh, she so desperately needed to break free ! Biting her tongue to ignore the pain, she began to draw circles with her imprisoned foot, and centimeter per centimeter, she managed to get the tentacle to loosen its grip and slide down, until it reached the heel. There, Veruca could congratulate herself for having chosen to wear slippers, because the stem, by pulling, accidently removed her shoe and set her free. She didn't lose time then to withdraw and climb up her root until she arrived safe back on the grass. But the troubles had just begun, the tentacles could grab her again at any time. She checked her painful ankle and saw that a good part of the stocking had been ripped off and the bare skin was like badly sunburnt. Did these plants produce some kind of acid ? Her suspicions were confirmed as a drop of a white substance landed on the back of her hand, immediately producing another burn sensation. She quickly rubbed her hand against her coat to get rid of the acid, but other drops fell around her, smoking and sizzling as soon as they touched the grass. Lifting her eyes, she saw a stem standing over her head, the white acid raining from its spread leaves. This time they were getting really aggressive ! She got up and ran before she took a deadly shower, and headed to the tree in front of her, a tree that had a branch going up to the porthole, her only way out. A tentacle appeared in front of her and lashed to catch her, but as she knew how they proceeded, she dodged it with ease and reached the tree. The exit was close ! She began to climb, when two tentacles grabbed her by the shoulders from behind !

"Let me go ! Get off me you freakin' beans !"

She thrashed about like in her worst whimp crises, and eventually freed herself, though they had managed to take her mink coat in the struggle and brought it to the giant mouth. Seemed like the clothe was lost forever, but she had no time to mourn. She resumed her ascent, arrived on the branch, and followed it to reach the porthole. She had made it, but the porthole was locked ! The poor girl had completely forgotten this fact, and she couldn't go through the ten-centimeter thick glass by herself. _Oh, no,_ she thought, _all this struggle for nothing ? It can't be..._ the giant stems arrived at her level and surrounded her. This time, she was very unlikely to escape...

The stems suddenly stood still and had a brutal start, as a resounding cough came from the mouth. A cough ? Veruca looked below to notice that the creature was indeed coughing, its mouth, shaken by violent spasms, spitting out a haze of grey hair that once was a fur coat. It seemed, for the girl's greatest advantage, that it couldn't stand mink. She even surprised herself smiling when she came to that conclusion. Wasn't it amusing to be saved by one's own coat ? There was another cough, and a small black object flew out of the monster's mouth right towards Veruca, who caught it in the air like a baseball player. It was her missing shoe ! Another cough, even more violent this time, and it was a whole plastic container that was propelled out of the pit straight into the porthole, blowing up the glass and shattering it into millions of pieces ! That was an incredible chance, and the girl took it without hesitation: she climbed to the very end of the branch, then up through the porthole. She could already smell the sulphur from the furnace, and it was such a sweet smell of freedom ! She finally reached the pod's roof and immediately crawled further away from the hole to be out of tentacle range. She cut herself multiple times, rolling on the crushed glass, and her forearms and legs were bleeding, but she didn't care, she was out, damn she had made it out ! She got up, and put her slipper back on. She shouted in joy at the sight of the familiar bridges and the radioactive red glow coming from the lake of fire, while behind her, she could hear a tentacle that had stretched out through the hole and was hitting blindly, almost angrily, the metallic roof, searching for a prey that was out of range. She turned her gaze to the monstrous outgrowth, and impulsively sneered at it, just like the way she used to sneer at the fat kid who couldn't jump a hurdle at gym class. There was that familiar mechanic buzz again, and three of those annoying robot flies flew towards the stem, surrounded it, and proceeded to poke it brutally with what looked like electric cattle prods, forcing it to draw back into the pod. Wow, these things were effective, for the least. But once the monster was gone, the robots turned towards her, and she didn't feel like laughing anymore. _Uh-oh, they're gonna catch me again..._

At lightning speed, one of the flies passed behind her, winded its metal paws around her hips, and lifted her off the ground. She began to kick in the air uselessly, because she knew very well that she wouldn't get away from that machine. Once again, she was the toy grabbed by the pincer, and it would throw her back with the monster... at this moment, something odd happened: one of the flies, in front of her, stopped buzzing, its sensors seemed to shut down, and it fell dead without warning. The second fly followed. _What the ? A sudden death epidemic ? _The second after, it was the robot holding her that stopped working. The problem was... it had moved a few meters away from the pod before it died, and there was nothing anymore under the girl's feet. They both fell down into the burning lake.

A noise ! Charlie turned round, brandishing his light and his knife, only to find nothing. He took a deep breath. The new place was making him utterly nervous. From the hallway he had emerged in a large shadowy room, large enough for each of the sounds he produced, even his heartbeats, to echo in a considerable manner. It was apparently empty of all kinds of living presence or furniture, though it was hard to tell through the pitch darkness, but everytime he stepped forward, he heard a deranging hobbling sound behind him, and everytime he turned round to check, there was nothing but a persistent and unholy feeling that something, somewhere, was fooling him. He moved on, towards what he guessed was a wall, with the intention to follow it to a door, or a staircase, or something... Veruca was close, he could feel it. Behind him, the hobbling continued, perfectly synchronized with his own steps. He tried his best not to turn back again, this time. If he yielded to every little fright, he would panick before he found his sweetheart._ Continue, ignore the sound. There is nothing behind you, you checked already, there's absolutely nothing... _damn, he knew that, so why couldn't he convince himself ?

He definitely arrived in front of a wall. _Okay, now, look for an exit._ He looked on his left, and his eyes met a rather unusual object in a building of that type, an old, rusty, dirty hospital bed. He looked on his right to find another similar bed, except that this one was occupied. A man of seemingly small figure, with a slightly disproportionate head, was lying down, motionless, clad in a white cook suit that looked burnt on a side.

"Ehh... sir ?" He asked. "Sir, can you hear me ? Who are you ?"

No response. Charlie slowly approached him, taking extreme precautions. The memories of the dead parents and the roasted kid were still much too vivid, and he feared the small man may be... he didn't look like. He wasn't reacting, and his head was turned in the direction opposite to the young boy, so that he couldn't see his face. That was odd, the light of his lamp reflected on the man's neck and hair, as if it was... plastic ? He made a quick step to arrive beside the bed and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Sir, are you okay ?"

As he looked closer, he withdrew his hand in surprise. That was indeed plastic. He recognized the "man" now, it was one of the cook puppets that were set on fire during the parade, this morning ! But the greatest surprise was when the puppet turned its head by itself to let him see its face: the whole left side was melted down, and it had lost the left eye. Even if it was only plastic, the sight was deranging, even most deranging was the fact that there was a glimpse of life in the remaining eye, it looked _alive_. Charlie froze, and the doll let out, with a harsh mechanic voice, a rather hoarse theme:

_Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka, Amazing Chocolatier ! Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka, Everybody gives a..._

The end of the phrase disappeared in an inaudible amalgam of parasites before the doll definitely shut up and a spark burst from the hole of its face. Charlie had a start and jerked back, but he tripped on something and fell heavily on his back. The thing he had tripped on was the puppet of a female baker that had an arm missing and a leg apparently shorter than the other. So that was the thing that had kept on following him ! Immediately as he saw her, the little baker screamed with her husky robot voice:

"Dog pile !"

And out of the shadow, a dozen of puppets, bakers, confectioners, cooks and milkmen, rushed to the defenseless boy too fast for him to realize what was going on, and jumped on him in a melee he couldn't free himself from. He wanted to use his weapons, but his hands were blocked under the mass of plastic midgets. All he could do was shouting at them, when suddenly, with an eerie hyena-like sneer, they all burst into flames. Flames ! He was set on fire under that pile of stupid toys, and he couldn't even move ! He felt the boiling plastic flowing on his skin, and this time he really began to panick. He was burning ! And it all went so fast, he could already hear the hissing of his own flesh grilling ! It was over, he would burn and die here, that was sure, how could he get out of this ? Unless there was a miracle...

_Holy shit... holy shit !_

The voice, there was a voice that seemed to come from the ceiling. It sounded vaguely familiar... Charlie wondered if it was the voice of the dead people greeting you to Heaven when you die...

_Holy Shit !_

For a moment, he forgot the pain, he forgot the heat and his imminent death. That voice, it sounded worried, terrified, and it was so familiar...

_Charlie ! Can you hear me ? Charlie, wake up, pal ! Charlie ? Charlie !_

Mike ! It was Mike Teavee's voice ! How could it be ?

"Mike," he asked loudly, and quite strangely with a calm, resigned tone. "Are you dead too ?"

_What are you talking about ? Charlie, I don't know what's going on, but you're acting very strange, and that's scary !_

"Mike, I'm... it's over. My parents already told me, I didn't believe them. I'm burning, now. I'm almost finished, Mike, it's over, I'm over."

_Are you on your cracks or what ? Do you know where you are ?_

"I'm burning."

_Crap, that boy's gone nuts... listen, I don't know where your mind has gone, but your body is still in the Factory, you hear me ? You are in a room in the Basement 9 of the Chocolate Factory !_

"What ? That's impossible, I saw... my parents, the house... I made it out, and I was in my house !"

_I don't understand anything you say. I am into the Central Computer. I have made it, you hear me ? We've won ! And I'm watching you through a surveillance camera, you are in... it looks like an infirmary, there are rows of beds, and the walls are plain white. There's lots of light, but it's neon lights, there's nothing burning, no fire, and you're all alone in the room !_

"You're lying ! I can feel it ! I saw them, and now I feel burning ! You know, Mike, it did hurt at the beginning, but now it's okay... I feel kinda peaceful now, I know I'm gonna die and all that, it will be over soon."

_He's forgetting Veruca._

This time, it was a girl's voice, and it abruptly brought him back to Earth. She had mentioned Veruca's name !

_Can he hear me ? _asked the girl, probably to Mike. _Okay... Charlie, it's Violet Beauregard. I calmed you down on the boat, do you remember me ?_

Violet. The blond girl. The chewing gum. Okay. "Yes," he replied.

_Good, now listen to me. _Her speech was slow and serene, like the way his mother spoke when he woke up from a bad dream. _I don't know what you are seeing now, but it doesn't exist, you understand ? You have been poisoned. Willy Wonka put some drugs in the candy he gave us in the garden, and we all had a nightmare, just like yours. I believed I was in a snake nest, but now I'm okay. You can't be hurt. The fire doesn't hurt because it's an hallucination. What you see is not real !_

Then it was Mike's voice, again: _Put up your hand, Charlie !_

And Charlie did. His arm passed through the pile of burning dolls without problems. The second hand followed, and by the time he had both his arms up, the shadow had disappeared, along with the fire. He found himself laying quiet, alone in the middle of the infirmary, which was exactly like Mike said: plain white, bright, silent, with rows of neat beds. Some of the burnt puppets that had surrounded him were occupying a few of the beds, but they were still, lifeless, plain plastic puppets. Toys. Only toys. He got up, confused but comforted nevertheless. He wasn't burnt, or hurt in any way. The butcher's knife and the lamp had disappeared, he had only his razorblade left now. Which was quite logical, after all: if it all had been just an illusion, then he had never taken the knife and the lamp, and he'd never come back to his house... and his family was not his real family, then. That was nothing, nothing more than a nightmare !

_Charlie, I see you smiling, but don't get relieved so easily, we're not done yet._

"What do you mean, Mike ?"

_Veruca is in danger._

"What ? Where is she ? Can you help her ?"

_I can see her, she's somewhere in Basement 11. I know exactly where she is, but there is a door that can only be opened manually, so you're the only one who can help._

"Okay, guide me there, quick !"

_Take the right door at the end of the infirmary, and then take the second door on the left to reach a service staircase. Hurry up, she is... yuk ! Just hurry._

Once again, that was close for Veruca. Ew, that was the third time this day she found herself hanging over a certain death. Why did she always need to pass so close to her end like that ? Was it some kind of punishment for being such a brat ? The theory was indeed possible... she was now standing on a large rotating gear that had to be a part of a big machine that consisted of a massive and very high black pipe that went in and out of the metal, and everytime it went in, the extremity that remained emerged let out a furious plume of rosy steam. A pressure equalizer, maybe, or maybe it was for the heat... whatever, she didn't choose that particular machine, after all. She had grabbed the gear in mid-air because that was the nearest thing she could grab to prevent herself from falling in the lake when the fly broke dead. That's a chance that the robot had loosened its grip, they got separated as soon as she had gripped on the gear and it had continued its way to the lake, where it disappeared in a magnificient volcanic outburst. The only problem was that, when you grip on something in a reflex to save your life, you don't think of what to do after. The machine Veruca was standing on now was too far from the pod to climb back on it, and the bridges were too far over her head. In other words, she could as well be standing on an oarless rowing boat in the middle of Lake Baikal, it wouldn't be worse. And it was so hot, even without her mink coat she felt it torturous. And to add to it all, the pain from the cuts on her arms and legs was awakening... okay, keep it cool, there had to be a way. She observed her immediate surroundings while walking backwards to stay in place in spite of the gear's rotation, which became quickly tiresome. There was a large pipe running horizontally to the other end of the room, near the second pod. Oh, yeah, she had forgotten there were two pods. The second one was _Organic Waste_, and she had wondered what was the real difference between the two. Now that she had seen what was in the first pod, she didn't want to know anymore. But at least, it was close to where she wanted to go: the elevator, at last !

She proceeded to head for the pipe, jumping from a gear to another, just like in those old video games where you have to jump from a moving platform to another, and if you miss, you fall in a bottomless pit and lose a life. Veruca was an extremely casual video game player, she just gave it a try sometimes, when she got really bored, and never understood the geeks like Mike who would give it so much importance. But now, she began to understood that games could be a rather comforting way of escaping reality, especially if reality was to look like _this_... after a serie of perilous leaps, she arrived on the pipe, and followed it with extreme caution and an uncertain balance until she reached a safe point, the top of a square machine suspended at the same altitude. There was no danger anymore, the metal flies were all dead, for a reason she couldn't explain. Maybe they caught a bird flu... she couldn't help but giggle at this stupid joke. The Waste pod was right beside her, but in terms of height, she was not any closer to the bridge. However, there was a chain that came out of the machine she was on, to reach a pulley hanging from the ceiling, and come back inside, a mechanism that was very similar to a bicycle chain. That was maybe the only way to climb up to the bridge, so she went for the ascending side and put her hands on the chain, immediately fighting an urge to withdraw from the slimy black grease that coated it. She was immediately lifted from the ground and began to mount. The bridge was now very close when the ascending abruptly got slower, and a very unpleasant hum came from the mechanism, as if it threatened to yield at any moment. _Wait a minute, _the girl told herself, _maybe it can't stand my weight !_

It was effectively the case, as the pulley gave way at this very moment, bringing all the mechanism down. Veruca dropped her chain screaming, and began to fall, downright into the glass porthole on top of the Waste pod. Once again, she could consider herself extremely lucky, as the pulley fell before her and destroyed the glass, so that she passed through without being hurt and landed on a soft ground. She was into the second pod. So what was it about ? She looked and was relieved to see this one didn't contain any jungle, nor hole in the middle with a tentacular vegetal monster. Actually, it was empty, except that the ground was covered, to a point it became almost a pool, with old, sticky and colorful stuff that let out a sweet and sour smell... of sugar. Old candy ? Prototype candy, maybe... the failures that couldn't be digested by the monster were stored in this pod. But how did he get rid of them ? What was the recycling process for this kind of material ? There was also rice in this room, among the candy waste, lots, lots of rice. More rice than candy, actually. But what was all that rice for ? There couldn't be so much of this used for candy making, it had to have a role in the recycling, then, but which one ? She quickly understood. She got it when she saw some of the white corns climbing on her sleeves. Yes, climbing. Like the living, swarming things they were. They were not rice. They were maggots. Hundreds, thousands, millions of maggots. And when she had landed, she had rolled, which meant she had some on her legs, on her dress, and most probably... in her hair ! She stood straight in the middle of the waste, thrashing around and slapping her head hysterically, in a vain and disordonate attempt to take them off while letting out helpless squeals. She could think of nothing but these worms crawling on her body... she began to run to the other end of the pod, desperately hoping to find a safety door, there had to be one ! She fell twice, and when she eventually made it to the wall, she felt with greatest horror that some vermin had eventually found its way _inside_ her clothes ! It was more than she could bear, she'd rather be eaten alive by squirrels than to endure this, and she began to scratch and punch the wall with a desperate energy. There had to be a door, she couldn't end up infested like that !

Charlie literally flew over the last few stairs, and arrived in Basement 11.

"Where ?" he shouted.

_On the right._

Charlie ran in the direction indicated by Mike.

_Left door._

The boy stopped before the said door, a metal gray handleless panel. He could hear punching and screaming on the other side. She sounded terrified, something was happening to her ! He considered the door, not knowing what to do, when he eventually noticed a red button on the side. He pushed it hurriedly, and the door slid open before a distressed Veruca who jumped in his arms crying. Surprised by the abruptness of her move, he put a shaking hand on her back, and withdrew it when he had that soft, tickling feeling on his palm. He looked at it to see a group of maggots between his fingers. What the Hell ! He withdrew from her hug and stepped back. Her face was red with terror and shame, and she was looking at him with eyes that seemed to have lost all expression. She was only trembling, all over. And she was infested with maggots, from head to toes.

"Please," she just moaned weakly, "get them off me..."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As you may guess, this was the last chapter dealing with hallucinations (and I'm quite happy with this, because I swear it's so hard to write). Now, well, it's time for _real _troubles to appear...


	20. Escape Route

Wow, one other month passed, I really thought I would update sooner. Anyway, the schoolyear's almost finished for me, and Summer begins, I'm sure going to get more time and more motivation. And we're approaching the end ! Well, there's still a long way to go... but thinking it's been nearly a year since I began ! Doesn't time fly...

By the way, please excuse my latin, it's kinda rusty.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Latex-gloved hands typed hysterically on the keyboard, as a pair of wide violet eyes were staring helplessly at the rush of informations appearing on the screen. Below these eyes, a mouth would open, showing perfect teeth, and mumble with an impatient, almost panicked tone:

"Facility System, emergency procedure code 547528... emergency shutdown of main installations... unable to execute command. Shit... checking status: magnetic field, ok. External connection, ok. Disconnect external connection... done. Perfect. Protect commands: security systems. Unable to find WonkaBots and FlyBots. Damn, this little prick must have... okay, let's try something else... checking codelines... yes, one by one, that's what you're made for, stupid machine. Let's get started..."

And, under Willy Wonka's anxious glare, the millions of codelines the Factory's computer system was made of began to scroll down the screen at a speed one could find only in the cyberspace. The completion bar, below, indicated 5 percent.

The system used by the chocolatier for his checkup was not a commercial system. It was a sub-system developped by the American corporation Prinzmetal Cybernetic Engineering, the same company that produced the WonkaBots and most of his automated systems. The system was as effective and fast as the NASA network. Their products were always on the top of quality, but not available in store, only those who were really interested had to contact them personally. That's why, although the company was large and recognized, only a few people knew what they really produced, and the science of cybernetic was rather unknown to the mainstream.

The analysis was 30 percent complete.

The modus operandi of this corporation was indeed the mirror of the character of its chairman. Throughout his life, Willy Wonka had never met such a mysterious, dark and charismatic figure as Alan Prinzmetal. The first thing that had struck the chocolatier when they first met was that, just like him, the businessman never took off his gloves. He then discovered they were so different, yet so similar: Prinzmetal was a highly intelligent, ruthless man who was afraid of nothing and believed every kind of method was acceptable if it was for the rising of his company. Wonka was all the same, he just pursued a different purpose, which of course was unknown to his associate. The corporation's motto was: "What your customer is up to is none of your business, as long as he pays on time".

The analysis was 50 percent complete.

There was only one thing, actually, that could prevent the two men from becoming friends: Prinzmetal had a daughter, a ten-year-old ponytailed rat named Cornelia, who he loved dearly. Wonka found it despicable that these things even had a name. Why did the adults display such a fondness for children ? It was all going against common sense to love these creatures. They commit mischief, we call that cuteness. They talk indecently, we call that innocence. And when, growing up, they wreak havoc in their parents' life, they're forgiven because it's _just a phase_. And that's how society creates young deviants and criminals...

The analysis was 70 percent complete.

It seemed to take longer, now, and he didn't like that at all. He felt something cold rolling on his forehead, and as he collected it with a finger, he saw it was a drop of water. No, not water. Sweat. The idea that he might, after all, be defeated by a group of kids made him sweat. Willy Wonka was never afraid of anything. He would be easily disgusted by people, and uncomfortable in social interactions, but never anxious to that point. After all, that Violet had defeated a group of combat robots with _bare hands_ ! And what about Mike, who had defeated two highly efficient FlyBots with a home-made jetpack, before jacking himself into the system using the Chocolate TV prototype ! Of course, he knew one could possibly use this laser as a point of entry into the cyberspace, but he never one second thought the boy would go this far and succeed. He had clearly underestimated this group of kids, and this might be fatal to his project...

The analysis was 83 percent complete, and it stopped. What ? The completion bar froze and turned red, while a message appeared:

_A fatal error 0E occurred. Scanning process will be aborted. Corrupted or damaged datas may be interfering with the proper functioning of your system. Read status log ?_

Wonka typed _Yes_. The screen changed and, much to his surprise, it showed a picture of a smiling Mike Teavee, wearing black goggles and waving his hand at him. Above this image, a text appeared:

_Hi there ! Well, it seems you have a problem, here. May I give you a hand ?_

The hand on the image then changed his position to properly give him the finger, while the text changed as well to indicate in red bold characters:

_To Fuck You !_

The chocolatier's ivory cheeks turned bright red as he felt irritated to he highest point by this obscenity. Looked like the kid was confident... but he had been overly confident and condescending ever since the Tour began, that's what made him so detestable. This time, however, he had gone way too far, this hijack was like a punch in the midsection. Wonka was knocked down, but not out. He was already forming a strategy to turn the situation back to his advantage... it could work... but he had to act fast. Using what was still under his control, he turned on a firewall, then left the computer. He crossed the bridge over the "meat storage" room, and went back to the surgery, where he was greeted by a worried Mr Wilkinson.

"Boss," he said, "communications have just been cut. We receive no sign of our Oompa Loompas nor anything from outside this basement. It looks like..."

"We are losing control of the Factory, Mr Wilkinson, I am perfectly aware of this fact."

"Please excuse me, but you don't seem to mind much, do you ?"

The chocolatier sat on a metallic chair, and crossed his legs in a self-confident manner. He grinned:

"Jonas, come on..."

The surgeon twitched. The Boss rarely called him by his first name. Actually, he only did this when he was high, or dead drunk. As he watched him preparing himself a joint with some paper and grass from the Chocolate Room he had taken from his pocket, Jonas Wilkinson became aware that his Boss felt way less comfortable than he was trying to show. Willy Wonka lit his spliff and took a drag. There was not much danger for him, he had made these drugs and knew perfectly of their effects. The dose he had taken would only detach him slightly from reality, and put him in a state of "superior awareness", where his smartest ideas would come. Where he was the most dangerous, for short.

"For you see," he said with a professoral tone, "he used our laser converter prototype to convert the atoms of his body into waves, which he then used to travel through the cyberspace to the very inside of the system. In theory, such an operation was not supposed to be possible, but we have always been aware of a possibility of malfunction. In this case, our young friend took the form of a trojan-type virus, spreading himself through the system to take as many programs as possible under his command. Technically, it would be game over for us, now."

"Then why are we still in control of some parts ?"

"People, especially kids, are not ready to receive God-like omniscience, even if they're smart as Mr Teavee. The sudden rush of information, millions of datas coming in his hands every second, have disoriented him. That was just too much, he didn't know where to begin, and at this point we were vulnerable the most, he just had to search for the central program properly speaking and take it over, and he would have beaten us checkmates. However, this possibility is notwithstanding the crucial factor of the equation: the human factor."

"You mean that Mike acted in a different way than planned, not out of logic but rather out of... emotion ?"

"Indeed, his first reflex was not to search for the simplest way to get rid of us like a virus would've done, but to search for his friends and put them to safety. Therefore the first programs he took control of were the surveillance network, of course, and it took him time, enough time for me to set up a firewall and cut off all communication with the outside. As we're talking, he's in control of 17 percent of the Factory, all the rest is secured and under my control."

"Only 17 percent ? Then what should we worry about ?"

"The few he controls has been tightly selected, I'm afraid. I still control the main production, the magnetic field and the external defense system are still in place and working, this basement is secured, and I might even still be able to activate some traps. He, on his side, is isolated from all contact with the outside, but he unplugged the WonkaBots, desactivated our internal communications, took over all the surveillance network, and has access to the major part of the facility's database. In other words, the few he controls is more than enough to allow him to get his friends out of the place."

"But if they leave by the main door... they will be slaughtered by the WonkaDolls outside ?"

"That's right, but I won't give them the priviledge of such an easy escape. I don't want them to see the sunlight... let's move. We need to find some stuff, we might re-establish a communication line and a few cameras. How many Oompa Loompas are working in that basement with us ?"

"Thirteen."

"Thirteen ? How appropriate... take ten of them and fetch me as many WonkaBots as you can. We can still reboot them and get them working. I and the three other will gather some equipment from this place, meanwhile. As for that annoying Mr Teavee..."

He stood up, took off his hat, and picked up a small metal plate from its inside. The plate was a USB key, bearing the mention _Wonkarrific Experience._

"I don't have any antivirus, any program, that is fit for facing a threat like him. Except this one..."

"Boss, it's never been tested before, you know..."

"Well, time to see what it can do..."

Charlie was beginning to relax. Wait a minute... relax was maybe not the appropriate word. It wasn't as if he was safe, after all. When you wake up at night from a nightmare and turn on the light to be sure that the thing chasing you in your imagination was actually not real, then you can relax. In the kid's case, there was no light to be turned on. The nightmare was still present, only had it lost its intensity. He was back in the bright, seemingly dangerless infirmary, but the lifeless puppets lying on the beds at the back of the room, like grotesque parodies of dead children, and the very fact that he was still inside the Factory, a fact that was confirmed by the cathedral-like height of the ceiling, showing a pathological sense of disproportion typical of Mr Wonka, could not in any way appease him. On the bedposts of the bed beside him were displayed, like hanging on a clothesline, a pink dress, a pair of slippers, a pair of ripped stockings, a pink purse, a pink belt, and a white jumper with holes all over the sleeves. Without forgetting the underwear. Veruca's clothes, or at least what remained of them. God, what happened to her had to be... when he found her, hysterical, with vermin crawling all over her body, he had also begun to panick, until Mike told him the infirmary was equipped with small bathrooms. He had brought the girl there, running like Hell, and now she was having a shower and he was waiting, mentally exhausted by all the terrifying events he had experience, too tired to even feel relieved. Through the narrow bathroom door, a few feet away from him, he could hear the sound of the shower, mixed with recognizable sobbings. Veruca was already in that room for a good twenty minutes, and she had never stopped crying ever since. Meanwhile, Charlie had tried to make himself useful by washing her clothes in a bathtub, in another room - without touching her purse, as she asked. But now, the clothes were dry and clean of all kinds of... unwanted guests, and he didn't have anymore things to do but wait. And this waiting was getting oppressive, alone in the large white room.

"Mike ?" he asked, searching for some company.

"Yes ?" replied the boy's voice from nowhere. It was still quite hard to get used to Mike's new situation. Talking to him now sounded more like a: "Hello ! God for you, on line 1 !"

"What are you doing ?"

"I'm trying to understand how this damn system works."

"Is it very difficult ?"

"Yeah... you can't believe how many informations I receive, and it's all coming so damn fast."

"You mean there's too many informations ?"

"Not really, I mean there are, actually, but with a normal computer I should be able to handle them. Here, this computer goes at 60 teraflops !"

"That's the memory, isn't it ?"

"You don't know anything about computers, do you ?"

"Not a single thing."

"Okay," the genius laughed. "Sorry. Flops are speed measure units for computers, it indicates how fast the datas travel through the processor. And this one is the fastest machine I ever used."

"Okay... I think I understood."

"The problem is that I got quite lost in the sub-programs when I jacked in, and now I have some troubles finding my way. It seems that while I was trying to save your ass, Wonka tried to save some datas."

"Did he try to..."

"Hack me off ? No, he can't do that, I have taken too much of the Factory under my command. I don't control the majority of it, but still. I would say I and Wonka are now in a Korean Configuration."

"A Kor... what's that, again ?"

"It's a term I've invented. Wonka has raised quite a strong firewall that I can't get through. As for myself, I have enough protection against everything he could try to take the computer back. So we each have our zone, now, and none of us can invade the other's. Just like in Korea."

Meanwhile, in another section, James and Violet, staggering and crawling like two drunken bums, were just emerging from the Juicing Room and made for the nearest room in the hallway, the _Butterscotch Storage_, according to the caption on the door. The room was nothing but a messy piles of bottles forming like miniature hills and mountains on the floor. There was no furniture, not even a shelf. Just the bottles, left neglectfully on the floor. Quite an odd way to store... the two kids sat down, exhausted, on a pile and leaned back, like on a couch. They sighed. They were both soaked with that red juice which James had tasted and identified as cranberry juice - added with a light dose of cocaine, and that strange animal substance that seemed so familiar to him but yet so mysterious. Violet watched her hands, and grimaced in pain as she moved her fingers as softly as she could. Striking these machines had almost broken her fists. Her knuckles were bleeding. The blood was red.

"At least," she mumbled, "I'm only blue outside. James... do you know if it will be permanent ?"

"I have no idea. I'm not a dermatologist."

She laughed. "Yes, of course... how are your hands ?"

"It's still painful, but at least I'm not bleeding. Leather gloves... that's quite a good protection. What we got here ?"

He reached out and picked up a bottle. He opened it and tasted its content. Then, quite surprisingly, he smiled.

"Cool, that's real alcohol, and no shitty substance in it !"

And before Violet could say anything, he had drunk the whole bottle, and was already picking up another. She snatched it from him.

"I don't think getting drunk is the best solution to our problem," she said. But out of curiosity, she took a sip from it, and it irradiated her whole body with a very pleasant, comforting heat. "But I got no better idea," she finished as she drank more.

"Gooooooooood morning, Factory !" Mike's voice cheered, giving the kids a start. "Violet, Alex... I mean, James, you'll be happy to learn that Charlie and Veruca are safe and sound."

"What about Augustus ?" the blue girl asked.

Mike suddenly grew more somber: "Well, I've searched again and again, and still nothing... I'm sorry, but he's probably..."

She shook her head violently, in denial. "No..."

"I know how you feel," the computer-boy replied, "I don't want to think about it either. But... I saw it, when we got separated, and... I don't think he could have survived, honestly. Listen, now that we're all together, I'm gonna prepare an escape route. It's not gonna be easy, as I'm explaining to Charlie, the program's tough. Hey, that's crazy, now I can have two different conversations without getting confused ! Anyway, it will take a while before I'm finished, and I'll keep on looking for him, but... we can't stay here for too long, it's not safe. So if he still gives no sign of life when we're ready... we'll have to leave without him."

"Okay... I understand. It's too bad, I've never been really nice to him... what should we do, now ?"

"I don't have total control over the facility, so going out might be dangerous while I'm still figuring out a secure way. I suggest you stay where you are, and wait. There's nothing else you can do, now."

"Waiting... I hate waiting."

"Then, cheers !" said James as he brandished a new bottle. Violet laughed and clinked her own bottle with his, and they drank more. The girl quickly began to feel dizzy and to laugh at nothing, uncontrolled.

"Wow," she said between two chuckles, "I think I'm drunk already... how can you stand drinking this ?"

"I'm used to it. Where I come from, not drinking is an insult."

"Tell me more about you."

"You already asked."

"But you never answered."

"I told you it was too long to explain."

"We have nothing to do here but wait. I guess you have all the time you need to explain."

He sighed. "Then let's start by the beginning... I was born in Cooper Riverside, a small town near Los Angeles..."

Meanwhile, in the infirmary, Charlie had a start and rose on his feet when he heard the door to the bathroom open. Veruca was walking towards him, wrapped in a towel, her head bent down, trying to hide her face behind her wet hair. She didn't say a word, but her breathing was loud and fast, and to what Charlie guessed she was trying hard to stop crying. He felt so sorry... he wanted to say something, but he just didn't know what. She picked up her pink dress in silence, and he understood she expected him to turn away, which he did.

"You can watch," she said after a few seconds.

He then turned back again, and what he saw made him blush to a point of near-explosion: she had put her dress back on, but not her jumper nor her stockings, and the sudden sight of her naked arms and naked legs gave Charlie a strange feeling of... waw, was this what the word _sexy _was supposed to mean ? He didn't know, but he was sure it did. She had regained quite a composure, but her eyes were still red and wet.

"I... it's just so baking hot in that building," said Veruca, a little embarrassed. "Besides... my stockings are completely worn out..."

"It's okay," whispered Charlie, absent-mindedly. He couldn't turn his gaze from her legs.

"Have you finished ?" she complained playfully. "You little voyeur !"

He let out a giggle, and stammered that she didn't look so good. In fact, her legs and forearms still had numerous bleeding cuts, and her left ankle was pretty badly burnt.

"I know," she said. "It hurts... would you fix it up for me ?"

"What ? Wait, I'm not a doctor !"

"Anything you do will be much better than if I do it myself, anyway. Don't forget I'm a spoiled brat, I can't do anything by my own."

He opened his mouth to reply that not many brats would have survived being throw into a maggot pit, but she had already moved to a shelf on the wall beside him, where she took a handful of medical items. She then stopped, her face very close to his, and said:

"By the way..."

And without warning, she gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Under the shock, he fell backwards, on the bed, his eyes as big as tennis balls. This only made her giggle more.

"Sorry, I didn't find any better way... I just wanted to thank you... for everything."

She sat beside him and put her feet on the bed.

"You know," she continued, "you're the first guy I've met to be so kind with me... and I like that."

He kept his mouth open like an idiot, desperately searching for something to answer, and he preferred to focus on his task. He looked at the tools he had at hand: scissors, surgical string, bandage, alcohol, lidocaine, and cotton wool. He didn't know how to use any of this equipment, and he actually looked in terror at the surgical string, thinking that he would never have the guts to sew up her wounds.

"Don't worry," said Mike's voice, "her wounds are too superficial to be sewed. You won't have to use it."

"Mike ? How do you know what we're doing ?"

"There are cameras everywhere, buddy. Not a single part of your section is invisible to me."

"Wait a minute," said Veruca, worried, "you mean there are cameras in the bathroom too ?"

"Well... in theory, yes, but I swear I didn't even think of using them !"

"And how can I trust you ?"

"How come on, it's not like you're _that _interesting..."

"What ?" she shouted mockingly. "How dare you, you prick !"

Charlie decided to interfere and said, softly: "Veruca, my mom always told me that you can't heal properly if you're restless, so maybe you should..."

Mike burst in laughter. "That's it ! Be a good girl, and listen to the doctor !"

"I'll get you for this, Teavee !" she threatened. "And you'll never see it coming !"

The atmosphere was much lighter now, and after this good laugh, they were much more relaxed.

"Okay," said Mike, seriously this time, "I'll guide you, Charlie. You'll begin by the burn. It's already been washed by the shower, so all you need to do is to apply the lidocaine and bandage. For the wounds, you first clean off all visible blood, then you apply the alcohol to disinfect, and you bandage. It's very easy, but I warn you, Veruca, it's not gonna be fun for you."

The voice shut off. "Okay..." Charlie hesitated, as he took a piece of cotton and opened the bottle of lidocaine. A white, fatty liquid came out of it, which he poured on the cotton. The girl watched him working with anxiety. She had always hated hospitals and everything related to medicine. He touched her burn with the cotton, and she hissed in distress and jerked her leg away, though it didn't actually hurt. He held back her foot.

"How do you want me to heal you if I can't even touch you ?" he said.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just a little nervous... I'm not a fan of hospitals."

"You're a total whiney, aren't you ?"

"I guess you could say it like that... would you mind giving me your hand ?"

He did, and she squeezed it, tighter and tighter, as she tried to remain calm while he was finishing to treat her burn with his free hand. She felt a mild pain from the contact, but the anaesthetic effect of the lidocaine was fast to cool her down.

"I'm finished," he said, "you can release my hand. See, it was not that bad."

"Yeah," she sighed, "I'm sorry. I must look silly."

"No, that's okay. Now, I'll have to clean the cuts... with alcohol... it may hurt a bit."

"Oh, my God !"

"There's no need to worry, it's not horrible, trust me. I know what it's like."

"What do you mean ?"

"Well, about a year ago, in winter, I went out with schoolfriends to do some street gliding. For you see, there's a street in town that goes down, and in winter, it gets covered with a thick layer of ice, and it slides so much that no-one will dare to set foot on it, for fear of falling straight down the road... so with my friends we invented a stupid sport which consists in lying on your back and let yourself glide down, sometimes at crazy speeds. It's just like street ludge, but with ice and no ludge. It's street gliding."

"Aouch, I think I already know what happened... you Jackass !"

"It's worse than you imagine. Actually, that day, a girl I kinda liked would come and watch us, so I wanted to impress her."

"Stupid boy !"

"Yeah, stupid, that's the word. So the morning, I sneaked in the storage of the town's butchery, and stole some pork fat, which I spread on the back of my jacket, to glide faster than the others."

"Oh, no..."

"Oh, yes. So I did glide faster... all the way down the road, and I couldn't stop, I glided all through the village, even faster than the cars."

Veruca was completely absorbed in the suspense as he continued his tale:

"I tried to use my hands, like to brake, but I just managed to hurt them, so I tried to use my legs, to roll over, everything, but I only ripped off my clothes and hurt myself without slowling down, I saw all my life passing before my eyes at this moment !"

"And you finally stopped ?"

"Yeah... I hit a phone pole at full speed, and it stopped me at once. My mother cleaned all my cuts with an old bottle of vodka, eighty-seven wounds in all ! But the worst is... that when I collided with the pole, it hit me precisely between the legs... after this, I swear you know what's most important in a boy's life."

At this point, the girl cracked up. She was soon laughing so hard that her face turned bright red, with the swollen veins and all.

"Oh, I'm gonna die laughing !" she yelled. She took a deep breath and hardly managed to regain her calm. "Come on, that's..." an uncontrolled giggle interrupted her. "That's completely unbelievable ! This can't have happened !"

"Why should I tell you lies ?"

"Charlie, not a single boy on Earth can survive being hit between the legs at the speed of a car ! Okay, I admit I'm kind of a whiny, fragile girl and all, but I'm not stupid, I see very well that you're trying to fool me !"

"You're right, I was fooling you... but meanwhile, you didn't feel anything."

"What ?"

She abruptly came back to reality: all the wounds on her legs and arms were now clean, and he was even beginning to bandage her left leg. All along his story, he had been treating her, and she had not even paid attention to it.

"Waw," she exclaimed in admiration, "that was great ! Thanks !"

"Don't mention it... can I finish, now ?"

"Sure, go ahead."

James paused, just the time to finish his third bottle. Violet was flabbergasted by what she had just heard... and she had heard almost nothing yet.

"That's... that's shocking," she said. "Sometimes, I would pick on a little nerd, because I kinda like tormenting them... you may think I'm cruel, I know. It's no wonder why you decided to interfere, in the hotel. But in my mind, it has always been something playful... I mean, I never imagined it could be so serious, that some people could hate bullies the way you did... to the point of... Jesus, of killing them !"

"I think I can guess what you think of me, now," Snake replied. "I know I'm a freak, and I won't try to justify my actions, but I'll just say I never wanted to kill these people. The odds were against me. I was just a weak little kid, who had dreams of revenge he could never make real, because when it came to facing a bully, my only resort was to hide behind my girlfriend, who is a black belt in karate. Pretty pathetic, isn't it ?"

"Jessifer, that's it ?"

"Yeah..."

"Wait a minute... Jessifer King ?"

"You know her ?"

"Not personally. She's the new U.S. Junior Karate Champion, she's incredibly strong ! I'm scheduled to fight her in seven months."

He had a sad smile in response. "She made her way," he commented, "that's nice..."

"But... what definitely made you... you know..."

"Nakhash."

"What does it mean ?"

He answered by taking off his coat, letting her see the red pentacle-like symbol tattooed on his shoulder. She observed it with great curiosity, and declared: "There is... there is something written in the circle... _Iam serpens eram magis dolosus quam ullus bestia agri quod Senior Deus no_... that's latin ?"

"Yeah. _Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field which the Lord God has made_."

"From the Bible ?"

"Genesis 3:1... this tattoo is the symbol of the Cult Of Nakhash. It is - it _was _- a very small Satanic sub-group based precisely in my town. The Prophecy as they told me is quite complicated, but to make short, these lunatics believed that Nakhash, the Serpent that tempted Eve, was some sort of a messiah that was supposed to rise again and trigger the Apocalypse... pretty stupid, isn't it ? I mean, I've never set foot in a church, so all these stories were none of my business. Just another group of fools bringing yet another stupid belief... but these ones were different, as they were trying to trigger their messiah's arrival using genetic experiments."

"Like... crossbreeding a snake and a human, that is ? Like Spider-Man with a snake instead of a spider ?"

"Exactly."

"But why did they choose you ?"

"Because I happened to be the one who was in the wrong place, at the wrong time. It was pure hazard. I was given the DNA of over thirty different species of snakes, and almost immediately, I began to change. I became stronger, faster, I gained an instinctive ability to fight, I could dislocate my bones at will... I even grew venom stings, and the most important, I was connected to other snakes, like psychically. I could see through their eyes and feel their presence..."

"That's crazy ! Like a comic-book story !"

"I know, I hardly believed it myself. After that... well, I thought I'd become some kind of super-hero, like in the comic-books... I could have... but the snake instinct was already inside me. I could feel it invading my brain, cold, stressless, fearless... and merciless. I tried to control it, but it pushed me to kill. So I escaped, killing all the members of the cult in the process. I came back home, and that's when everything went wrong."

"What do you mean ?" she asked, horrified but fascinated.

"I had blood on my hands, but not enough. The Snake inside me had a bloodlust that was impossible to quench. I used a wicked sense of justice as an excuse, I became a vigilante and I spent all the Summer, that year, killing people who acted wrong, taking myself for a hero and not wondering one second if my victims really deserved their fate. Some were only sixteen... but it wasn't meant to last. At the end of the Summer, something happened, and I arrived face to face with myself. I saw what monster I had become. And I couldn't stand it, so I ran away. I stole a motorcycle, and rode to the East, without looking behind."

"It's sad... what you did was terrible, but in a way... it wasn't really your fault... I don't know what to think about it."

"I stopped asking myself questions a while ago."

"And what happened next ?"

"I arrived in New-York, but I was still not far enough. I had become a runaway serial killer, and I couldn't stay in the country. I wanted to continue, to see how far I could go... and there is that woman, a prostitute, who recognized me. Her boyfriend worked at the docks, and he could get me a boat, but first I had to get rid of her pimp. We made a deal. I threw the pimp out of a tramway, the fall was lethal to him. That was the first time ever that I killed in exchange for a favor. As promised, I got a place in a cargo boat heading to Europe. When I finally arrived, I was in Saint-Petersbourg."

"You really made it far, then."

"Yeah... there, nobody knew me, it was like all new... a new life. I got a false identity, and I started my new life, in Russia, trying to forget everything that happened... but it didn't work. The instinct proved to be stronger, and I wanted to kill again. I began to roam in some dangerous places, around some mafia members, and I eventually met an old man, a retired hitman who became my mentor."

"And then, you became a hired killer."

"Yes. Russia, Chechnya, Kazakhstan, I multiplied the successful contracts and gained in popularity, and I continued where I was good. Cause after my first contract, I understood that I couldn't in any way escape my instinct, it would always catch me back. So I yielded to it, plain and simple."

A heavy silence settled between them. Violet drank more liquor. She was drinking way too much for a ten-year-old who never even touched a beer in her life, but she thought she quite needed it. After all, it's quite uncomfortable to fight against a dozen of robots attempting to capture you, to finally have a rest beside one of the most heinous criminals of the country.

"Then," he finished after some hesitations, "while I was having a rest in the middle of the Kazakh countryside, I received a contract that I accepted because I believed it would be rather easy after months of intense action... the contract was to serve as Veruca's bodyguard during the Tour."

"I see, and now you're stuck here with us..."

"Yep, hurt, drunk, and I have even lost my client, which is _the _thing not to do."

"So it's all a question of money ?"

"Well, I'd rather bring her back to her parents alive, a dead kid doesn't pay much."

_What ? _What was wrong with this guy ? Was he completely insensitive ? Now that he told her the truth, she began to remember some news reports she had seen and read at the time when those murders occurred. People said he was insane, sadistic, and even compared him with movies like _Seven_. Now that she had him right next to her, she decided that most of these statements were wrong. Of course, he wasn't a saint, far from that, but he didn't look like a psycho. He was more like someone who keeps struggling against parts of himself he couldn't control. And he was only thirteen...

"But, tell me: if by chance you found yourself here with us, without getting paid for rescuing any of us... would you still try to help ?"

"When Mr Salt considered giving me a bonus for rescuing you and the other kids, I said I would do it for free. It's not my kind to work for free, but sometimes it feels good to remain in contact with your human side."

"Is it the only reason ?"

"No... I also did it because you remind me of Jessy."

"You still love her ?"

"Yeah... I think so..."

"Do you plan to see her again ?"

"Never."

"You should at least phone her, or write her a letter... something to let her know that you still think of her."

"I don't think this is a good idea. I didn't leave her in very good terms, and I gave no sign of life ever since. She must think I'm dead by now."

"That's a good reason. Even if she's mad at you, she will be pleased to know you're still alive. I'm sure she will."

"How can you be so sure ?"

"I'm a girl, don't forget."

Charlie bandaged the last wound, and proudly declared he was finished. Veruca observed his work and tried to move her limbs. The bandage covered her shins and forearms. At least, it didn't prevent her from moving, but it was not very aesthetic.

"Does it hurt ?" asked Charlie.

"Still quite a little, but it's almost nothing. You did a great job."

"Thanks. It's my first one."

The girl took her purse that was lying on the floor, and searched in it.

"Now, time for some relief," she said as she produced a pack of Chesterfield and a lighter. Charlie was revolted:

"What, you smoke ?"

"Well, not really," she answered while putting a cigarette in her mouth, "I stole this pack a few months ago from one of the maids, at the mansion. You know, I just wanted to... give it a try. It's not that bad, after all."

"Yuk ! I don't wanna know."

"Oh, it's not like I'm intoxicated or anything. I just take one when I'm stressed, it makes me feel calmer. That's all."

She held the pack out to him. He considered it a moment, then shrugged.

"After all..."

He picked one and put it in his mouth. Veruca lighted it. The boy took a drag, and began to cough helplessly, making the girl laugh.

"Breathe slowly," she said. "First time is quite a shock, isn't it ?"

"Yeah..."

He took a slower drag, and it was already better. Now, he did feel relaxed. Veruca lay down on the bed, with her free hand behind her head, and watched the ceiling with an absent mind while smoking. Charlie lay down across, and rested his head on her stomach. They remained there, motionless, watching the ceiling.

"Charlie ?"

"Yes ?"

"You remember what I told you this morning ? In the Chocolate Room ? I said you weren't worth talking with because you were poor and I was rich..."

Charlie's face grew somber at this memory.

"I remember."

"Well... I didn't think a word of it. I wanted to apologize sooner, but I wanted us to be alone... sorry."

"That's okay."

"No, that's not. Really, I don't know how I could say such things. It was... stupid and cruel. Actually, all my friends are exactly like me, snobbish and demanding. That's not quite a good example, and I never talked to someone... normal before. I didn't know how to react, and..."

"I understand. Thank you."

"For what ?"

"For being honest."

She smiled. "You're really the nicest boy I've ever met. Tell me, what are you planning to do when all of this is over ?"

"You think we'll ever get away from here ?"

"Mike's in control, now, I can't see what can go wrong."

"Right. Well, there won't be much change. I'll go back to my house, and I'll resume my everyday life. Why do you ask ?"

"I was just thinking that the mansion is not very far from here. You should come over to see me, someday."

He looked at her, surprised. "Really ?"

"Yeah, I'd be delighted."

Another silence settled.

"Did you have a nightmare ?" Veruca eventually asked.

"A nightmare ?"

"Yeah... when we were drugged and lost in the Wallpaper Room, did you have a dream, or an hallucination ?"

"Oh... yes, I had."

"You don't want to talk about it ?"

"Thing is... it was very scary, and gross. I dreamt we had made it out of the Factory, and I came home. But my parents were different, they were like walking dead... they told me I had panicked inside the Factory, and Wonka refused to give me the Prize. They said it made us so poor that they didn't have anything to eat anymore, and we had to eat each others."

Veruca grew pale as a tablecloth. He continued:

"They said I would be next. They didn't want this to happen, they didn't want to eat me, but they had no choice, cause... _you _were not enough."

"Wh-what do you mean by that ?"

"They had already killed you, and roasted you, and now it was my turn. It was horrible, because if something really happened to you, I think I would never stand it. And then, and then..."

He began to panick, and the girl appeased him.

"It's okay," she said. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked..."

"No, I feel better, actually. I think I needed to talk about this... what was yours like ?"

"I was strapped on a bed, in a surgery... my father said I had gone crazy, and the best way they found to treat me was... to open my brain while I was still conscious... that was... ew, I'm shivering when I think back about that."

"You really hate hospitals, do you ?"

"I had appendicitis when I was eight. It scared me from hospitals for life... and now, look at where we are, in an infirmary ! It's like everything we're afraid of is taking shape... I loathe this place."

"We will get away, Veruca. I promise."

"Of course, we will !"

Again, the kids had a start when they heard it. Mike, The Voice From Above, always came out of nowhere without warning.

"You know you're cute, together !" he laughed. "Like a hippie couple ! Well, you should see Jim and Violet right now, they found a whole storage of liquor, and now they look like Lemmy Kilmister and his girlfriend."

"Who is Jim ?"

"Oh, that's right, you haven't been told... well, it seems that our friend Aleksey is actually not Aleksey, his real name being James. Sounds much less exotic, doesn't it ?"

"Yeah... so, what did you scare us for ?" asked Veruca.

"I found a way out."

"What ?"

They both immediately rose to their feet.

"I said I found a way out. I managed to find some very detailed maps and I examined them."

"Tell us everything !"

"Okay... Jim, Violet, can you hear me ? Good, so let's see: I couldn't find all the maps for the upper section of the building, but it seems there's just the conveyor chains, parcel management, and all that stuff, and the main building properly speaking is used as a residence. Actually, all the action takes place underground. There are twelve basements of different sizes according to their importance. All the basements are linked together by an open space where the big machinery, the maintenance facilities, and an elevator pit are. I'm pretty sure that elevator can even go up to the residence."

"Can we use this elevator to go out ?"

"We could, but it's nowhere to be seen. There seems to be a second one in a maintenance hangar, Basement 7, but I don't know if it's working. Besides, I've been in that communication passage, and I nearly died in it, so I advise you not to get too close to it."

"But, you control everything, don't you ?"

"I'd like, yet a few places remain inaccessible to me, I don't know why. Maybe Wonka managed to protect more than I expected. I disposed of the WonkaBots, but there still could be traps... and the Oompa Loompas."

"Okay, tell us more about the basements."

"Basement 1 is the one that contains the candy garden. That's your goal, once you've reached the garden, the exit will be straight ahead. But it's far from here. Basements 2 to 9 contain all kinds of storages, production rooms, maintenance, factory stuff, you name it. It would be too long to describe them one by one, I'll only give you infos if you pass by. The Chocolate River runs from Basement 1 to a... rather large storage tank, in the communication passage, at the level of Basement 6. The Inventing Room, the Nut-Sorting Room, and the Wallpaper Room, are all in Basement 4. Violet and James, you are now in a storage room in Basement 6. The corridors in that section should lead you to the surface. Charlie and Veruca, the infirmary is situated in Basement 9. Basement 10... wow, it's damn huge ! Sorry, Basement 10, I said, contains the power plant. Apparently, the Factory is run by its own source of energy, and you should see how their main generator looks, I've never seen such a thing since _Half-Life_. Whatever. Basement 11..."

"I know what it is," complained Veruca, "I just come from here..."

"Yes, it's the garbage disposal facility. Its main element is a blast furnace they must use to produce construction materials. And there are captors, too, I think the generator above collects the heat transmitted by the furnace. So that's the way it gets so much energy..."

"And what about Basement 12 ?"

"Oh, it's just the water supply. They had to have a basement especially for it, cause the tanks are very large, and there are devices for recycling water, it's very well built. And what is that ? There is a tank, a very tall tank, it goes from Basement 7 to Basement 10 ! Damn, that thing's tall like three basements ! There's no mention of it anywhere, I don't know what it is, but a biochemical analysis shows that its content is of organic origin."

"I don't think we really want to know, Mike, you're freaking us out for nothing."

"Yeah, sorry. Charlie, while you were on your... bad trip, you took an old emergency staircase hidden behind the Wallpaper Room, and descended all the basements in a row. You can take this way back up, but stop at Basement 5, cause if you come back to the Wallpaper Room, you'll find yourself blocked by the Chocolate River. Wait... here, I have a plan ! Violet, James, at the very end of the basement, there's a small maintenance elevator that links the Basements 1 to 11. Use it to go to Basement 5, Charlie and Veruca will rejoin you there, and together, go up to Basement 1. You will arrive in a hallway with a door that links directly to the Chocolate Room. Once there, you're out !"

"Wait, what about you ? Are you coming with us ?"

"I can't. I have absolutely no access to anything beyond the Factory's doors. I can't even check the front yard. I'll stay here and guide you throughout. Once you're out, let someone know about the situation, and try to establish a communication line between the Factory and an outside computer. Then, I'll try to transport myself to that computer. In theory, the transport process might turn my waves back into particles, in other words I might get my body back in the real world. It has one chance upon a million to work, but it's the only way I have to get out."

"Okay," said Violet, "we'll try that. And... what about Augustus ?"

"No sign of him yet. I'm sorry."

"You said there are areas you can't see... maybe he's in one of those ?"

"Maybe he is. I'll keep searching, but you don't have time to wait for him. We don't know what Wonka can do, but you'd better be out before he does it. I think it's time to go, now. Just one thing, for the two drunkards..."

Far away from the kids, in a remote area in the depths of the Factory, there was a secret place. It was a jungle. Not a candy garden like the Chocolate Room, but a true underground jungle, composed of cliffs, a small river, and of course, tropical trees that were so numerous and so tightly close to each others that in the undergrowth, the night was eternal. The all thing was a real, living ecosystem completely independent from the Factory. However, what would strike a visitor in this place was its relative smallness: though the forest covered a large surface, perhaps three times larger than the Chocolate Room, the average size of the trees ranged from one to two meters. The tallest tree, a large Maikoa, was only three meters high. The cliffs weren't high enough for a man to get hurt, and the river was hardly more than water flowing down a trench. However unimpressive this place might be, it was only made to match with the small proportions of its inhabitants. This jungle was New Loompaland.

A small group of Oompa Loompas, wearing jumpsuits, were progressing through the vegetal maze they knew by heart, carrying bundles of their size wrapped in dark plastic bags. They had a look of grief in their eyes. After a tiresome walk, the dwarves finally made it out of the undergrowth, at the border of a natural basin formed by a succession of cliffs in a circular pattern. They were immersed in a dark blue, fresh air, artificially made to imitate a night in a real jungle. The space between the border of the basin and the forest was occupied by groups of cabins made of wood and fur, a primitive village. Immediately at their arrival, other Oompa Loompas rushed out of their houses and began to light fires around, in a ritualistic manner rythmed by the crazy tempo of large djembes echoing louder than Les Tambours du Bronx themselves. There was an atmosphere of an African ceremony in that scene, as if the midgets were trying to reproduce the customs of their native country... or at least what they thought was their native country. For Mike was actually right, there was no such a place in the world as Loompaland. The Oompa Loompas happened to be the result of years of restless studies and experiment in the domain of clonage. They were a scientific masterpiece, the first humanoid specie born entirely in vitro. Only they needed a landmark, a belief that they were born somewhere, that they shared a common culture, to preserve their emotional balance and keeps them under control. That's when the whole story of Loompaland had come to the chocolatier's mind...

Put in a sort of collective trance by the sound of drums, the creatures gathered around the basin, as close to the border as they could. When they were all arrived, the music stopped abruptly and an almost religious silence settled. The basin was not very deep, even by Oompa Loompa standards, and in its middle there erected a throne of palmtree wood and leaves, and on that throne there sat an Oompa Loompa, identical to all the others, with the exception of the crown and the numerous jewels - made of leaves, dried-up fruits, and even feathers - that composed his attire. All the other midgets respectuously crossed their arms on their chests. The ones that were carrying plastic bags gingerly put them on the ground. The king considered them, and in a silent order, asked them to open the bags. The small men obeyed, and revealed to the rest of their tribe the bodies of dead Oompa Loompas. All around the assembly, heavy sighs of horror could be heard. These were the Oompa Loompas that had been killed by Mike in the laser room, during his escape. For the others, it was a heinous crime he had committed. The king lifted his thumb up, and pointed it down. The gesture was greeted by numerous shouts of approval. It was a call for vengeance he had just performed. After all, they weren't machines, they couldn't be controlled by Mike, and they knew the Factory better than anyone else. Besides, they had lost communications with their master moments ago, so it meant it was up to them to decide what would be the procedure to follow to ensure the safety of the facility. The drums resumed their play, this time in an aggressive, warrious tone, as the tribe was to prepare for the fight. The king pushed a secret button on his throne, and suddenly a control panel and handlebars emerged from the ground just before him. He pushed a red button, gripped to the handlebars, and immediately, the floor under his throne began to rise, to rise at the village's level and higher, until he finally emerged from the basin, his throne standing no more on a solid soil ground, but on the head of some nightmarish mechanic monster, a bipedal robot with long limbs, a thin body, a long spiky tail, and a triangular head equipped with two electric eyes throwing a blood-freezing red glare around. It seemed like inhabited by a life of its own, swinging its sickle-shaped hands and wagging its tail with impatience, like a monstrous metal mantis. Yes, the kids would be defenseless against this weapon, the tribe would get its revenge. For the murders Mike committed, all the children shall perish...

When Mr Wilkinson entered the surgery, it was to find it empty. The boss had moved, he had to be working on the computer right now. The surgeon then left the room and followed the bridge over the storage to the ladder which he climbed to reach the computer. His boss was turning his back at him, sitting in a leather armchair he must have found in an old room of the basement, completely absorbed by his task. He approached him slowly, watching what was going on: the desk the computer was installed on was covered with an incredible mess of controls panels, bare PCBs, external hard drives, all coming from at least twelve different computers, and there was even a graphic calculator and what looked like a modified DJ board which turntable decks were emitting a curious green glow. All the elements were connected to each others, with three Oompa Loompas taking care of the wirings, and even though the surgeon didn't understand a thing of it, there seemed to be a certain logic in this mess. Oh, and two additional monitors were installed, one displaying camera images and the other showing a 3D map of the building, while the main monitor was still calculating something with the codelines.

"Don't touch anything," warned Wonka as he felt him approach. "It's all artisanal work, and it's not that secure."

"I see... Boss, I just came to tell you that we have performed a raid in the nearest basements, 11 and 10, and we have managed to gather a squad of six WonkaBots and one FlyBot. They have been manually rebooted, they are now under our control and ready to work."

"Excellent, but we should not throw the assault right now... let's just wait for the right time..."

"You seem quite busy, Boss. How is it going ?"

"Very well, so far. As you see, we have slightly boosted up the system, and it's giving results. But damn, these kids are really a bunch of troubles."

"But you wanted these five ones especially."

"Yes, and I do intend to get what belongs to me. I discovered that two hours ago, somebody used an operator test line to penetrate our communication system and give a phone call, thus avoiding the magnetic field. Well, using this same test line, I infiltrated and hacked into my own program to get further into the surveillance network. Of course, I shut this line behind me to prevent anyone else from using it. The results are not that great, but I managed to get a few cameras back, and discovered some points in the Factory that had escaped Mike's supervision. This one, in particular..."

He typed something, and the monitor showing camera shots displayed a dark, dusty room, containing shelves and tables full of glass bottles and syringes. It looked like the storage of a particularily dirty hospital.

"What is this ?" asked Wilkinson.

"It's an old drug test room. It's been left unused for a few years, and therefore it had been unplugged from the main surveillance program when it was updated. I fished it back from an old version. Now, look at this."

The camera rotated to another section of the same room. The surgeon saw an horribly thin boy lying unconscious on the floor. Only now that he saw the undulations of this floor around the body did he realize that the room was actually partially flooded.

"Is that Augustus Gloop ?"

"Yes. His survival is quite a miracle. When he was in that flooded laser room, caught by the Oompa Loompas, the water draining system went in action, and he was flushed all the way down to Basement 12. A lot of Oompa Loompas followed him and drowned in the process. Then, he was drained through another conduct that led him to this forgotten section of Basement 10. As the place was left unused, the conducts were poorly maintained and fragile, so they exploded at his passage, liberating him. With the shock he received, he's completely disoriented. That can be an advantage. Let us see..."

_Augustus..._

The soft voice was bringing him out of his sleep, but he didn't feel like getting up.

_Augustus !_

The voice sounded more and more insistent. The boy opened one eye.

_Wake up, boy !_

And Augustus woke up. Where was he ? What had happened ? He could barely remember anything after he was taken out of his chocolate cocoon. He was now sitting in the water, in a dark, abandonned room. His poor thin body felt terribly weak, and he had a hammering headache. He stood up hesitantly, the water went up to his calves and it was pretty cold.

"Where am I ?"

_Augustus, you're safe, now !_

"Mike ?"

_Yes, exactly. I made it, I'm in the computer. I'll guide you to the others, but first, you need to take forces. Okay ?_

"Okay..."

_Good. There should be everything you need on that table._

The skinny boy tottered to the said table, and examined what was in front of him. There was a set of full syringes that bore somewhat worrying mentions: _Steroids, Endorphine, Taurina, PCP..._

"That's quite impressive ! Which one should I take ?"

_You need a lot of strength to rejoin us, so don't bother and take them all._

"What ? You're sure it won't kill me ?"

_Augustus, you trust me, don't you ?_

The German boy agreed. He agreed because he was too tired to notice that the real Mike would have called him Auggie instead of using his full name. He took the dozen of syringes, and pointed their needles towards him. He took a deep breath, and dove them all in his chest. He expected the shock to be like being stabbed, but it was actually more like exploding from the inside. As the poison penetrated into his veins, he felt an inner fire burning, and his muscles were contracting and swelling up, until the pain became unbearable. He lifted his head an let out an inhuman roar, while the drug was continuing its effect, and suddenly, his muscles went numb, and red shadow began to dance in front of his eyes. He closed them, and he fell backwards.

"My gosh," exclaimed Wilkinson, "you killed him !"

"No, not at all. It would be counter-productive. Let us just say I gave him a... boost ! He's going to wake up in a few seconds. Now, let's take care of Mike Teavee..."

The chocolatier took his secret USB key, and inserted it in the USB drive. It emitted a red gleam, and a message appeared on the main monitor:

_USB device detected. Do you want to read it ?_

He typed _Yes_.

_The detected program is of an unknown/untested/dangerous origin. Do you still want to read it ?_

He typed _Yes._

_Are you **sure** you want to read it ?_

_Yes._

_Are you **really** sure you want to read it ?_

_Screw you !_

_Okay... no regrets ?_

_No !_

_Fine. Now initiating process: Wonkarrific Experience. Hold on to your suspenders..._

"Okay," he declared, "my little surprise is on its way... in less than one hour, we will be back in control. How is it going outside ?"

"We lost effective contact when we initiated the magnetic field, Boss, but the WonkaDolls have been activated about two hours ago. The intruder was terminated."

"The police ?"

"It's a possibility not to be ignored."

"Then we'd better be off before they the Royal Army joins the party. Prepare for our departure to our base in Paris. We must leave before the end of the day."

"Without communications, this is not gonna be easy, Boss. Even the phones are dead."

"I'm afraid we will then have to abandon most of the facility. But I was prepared for it, and everything will be alright as long as I have those kids with me. They represent the future of our enterprise, Jonas, and I'd rather have them dead than let them escape me. Do what you can. How's my boy going ?"

He took a microphone, and declared: "Augustus ? Augustus ?"

_Augustus, are you alright ?_

The boy woke up again. That was a great chance there was not enough water to drown. He stood back on his feet. Something had changed. He didn't feel any headache. Actually, he didn't feel any pain at all. He felt like his mind was floating a few centimeters over his body, like when he got drunk the first time he attended the Beer Day in Dusseldorff. Except that this time, he didn't feel any dizziness of any kind, on the contrary, he never felt so awakened before. And his body ! His large clothes, that were much too large moments before, were now so tight they threatened to rip off at any moment. He lifted one arm to observe it, the muscles were over-developped, and it was not just decoration, because he could feel the strength, in every fibre of his body. The strength, the strength, and more pure, animal strength ! Where was he ? What had happened ? What was he supposed to do ? His mind was blank, and he didn't give it a damn, he was like Hulk, now, the only thing that mattered now was the strength ! He looked at the table. He wanted to destroy it. He needed to. He lifted his arm high above his head, and let it fall like a hammer. The solid steel table was smashed to splinters with no effort. He wanted more ! He wanted to destroy something else ! Let's destroy something, anything !

_Fine, _said the voice above his head, _I see you're in a great form. Now, it's time to rejoin your friends. Find them, get them... and break them._


	21. Pandora Box

Sorry, it's been quite a while ! But writing was getting difficult lately, with the exams, you know... whatever. I had much hesitations about this chapter, it was originally meant to be much longer than that, but when I saw what I had already done and what I had left to do, I preferred to cut it in two, so here is the first part. More action and troubles coming as the kids are finally heading to the exit, while Augustus is still under the influence...

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The place looked like a nightclub. Imagine you're inside a green dome surrounded by darkness. Inside this dome, everything, the walls, the furniture, even the floor, are made of a flickering green light that seems to be constantly moving. And all you can hear is Motörhead music blasting in your brain at a high volume. That's the place Mike was in now, though it didn't really exist, it was only a virtual room lost like a deserted island in the middle of the unfathomable stream of the cyberspace. Mike was king in this place, and since he had penetrated the system, he had quickly learned to make it his own. He had learned to manipulate the codelines, that looked like simple nonsensical writings on a monitor only meant at pissing you off when you get the Blue Screen Of Death, but inside the system they were real, running around you to and from all directions at a time, you could touch them, feel them in your hands... and give them every kinds of shapes. And Mike used them to build this little palace: this way, the dome, the flickering lights that created this special atmosphere, part a nightclub, part the Matrix, and the massive console, with its three keyboards and so many monitors that in comparison, Batman's computer was an Atari ST, all of this didn't exist but was entirely composed of codelines shaped and assembled in a particular way. Of course, all this stuff was also perfectly useless, as Mike could as well work directly by mind-controlling the code itself, but he was more at ease to type on a keyboard and look at a monitor, that's what he was the most used to doing. Besides, he liked what he had done with the place, it made him feel like home. As for the music, he had just found it in Mr Wonka's more than exhaustive collection of MP3s.

Among the eighteen virtual monitors that surrounded him, ten were showing different views from the surveillance cameras, five were showing different angles of a large and extremely detailed 3D map of the Factory, and the three remaining were displaying informations about the system status. Sitting in a virtual armchair, the boy was watching all the monitors at the same time, while trying to get to the few areas of the map that remained out of his range. Augustus's matter was bugging him. Violet was right, he could very well be in an inaccessible zone, and Mike couldn't be certain until he searched them. He didn't want to disappoint his dear Violet, after all. The biggest problem with these "red zones" (he called them this way because they were shown in bright red on the 3D map) was that, though most of them were obscure, maybe abandoned areas, there were some that were not to be neglected, such as for example, some portions of the great communication passage, which was to the boy's own experience perhaps the most dangerous area of the Factory. These had to be key places, and therefore equipped with tighter security. That's why the escape route for his friends was to be prepared with extreme precautions.

A sudden change in the code - visible by a sudden and temporary freeze in the green lines - appealed the boy's attention. He looked at the map to see that the red zones had suddenly faded to black and disappeared from the image. He quickly typed something on his virtual keyboard, ordering a status report on these zones. The answer came quickly, appearing in the air in front of his eyes, like in an IMAX cinema: _Access denied. These zones are mine, now bugger off !_ What was that ? Wonka had taken control of these neutral areas, but how could he have passed through Mike's defense to do so ? Their computer arm-wrestling was turning to look like a strategy game. A strategy game with codelines instead of soldiers, but that required much more cleverness. Without panicking, the genius opened the connection log and read:

_04:32 (pm) - C:\ WWFactory Computer Network/admin/security/videocamsys/report0628.mpeg_

_04:32 (pm) - C:\ WWFactory Computer Network/admin/security/videocamsys/report0629.mpeg_

_04:33 (pm) - C:\ WWFactory Computer Network/admin/mapdata/sectorb10z04.flv -connection failure_

_04:34 (pm) - P:\ PCNsubsys/sectorb13/_

What the shit was that ? The first three lines indicated normal connections. The two connections that occurred at four thirty-two were simply the video surveillance network that transferred its reports. The connection that occurred at four thirty-three was another of Mike's failed attempts at accessing one of the red zones: _sectorb10z04 _meant Sector: Basement 10, Zone 04. However, the connection that occurred at four thirty-four, only one minute ago, came from the P drive, and Mike never saw anything related to a P drive before. Plus, this drive didn't seem to run with the Factory's general network, PCN looked more like a sub-system. And finally, the user was identified as _sectorb13_, like... Basement 13 ? Would it mean that Wonka, using his part of the program, entered a sub-system, via a secret, probably an emergency drive, to connect to Mike's own virtual territory, all of this from Basement 13 ? But there were only twelve basements in that building ! He had to fix that up quickly, he didn't know what Wonka had done exactly, and this was worrying him. He asked to access the P drive, only to have his request denied. That drive was highly protected. But every computer had a help file, no ? He asked for it, and fortunately he managed to access it. On the search field, he typed _P Drive_:

_P:\ Drive is a security drive operated by Prinzmetal Computer Network sub-system, which primary use is to provide emergency access to the Factory's main functions in case of a breakdown or hacking of the main network._

Okay, that was it: a security measure operated by a sub-system independent to the main one. Wonka was definitely a very cautious man. And that guy, Prinzmetal, who made that stuff, definitely knew what he was doing. Oh, man, that was going to be much tougher than he first thought. He had believed everything would be over once he entered the computer, but the chocolatier was full of hidden ressources. So he had opened a breach in Mike's defense and secured the red zones. Fine... but he could as well have introduced a virus in the system in the meantime ! The genius opened another window and checked all the downloads in progress. He found it. A program called _Wonkarrific Experience _was being downloaded. He asked for this program to be checked up. The system replied it was an unknown ressource. He then asked to have it cancelled. The system replied there was an error and the operation could not be aborted. He didn't know what it was, he couldn't stop it, and it was already five percent downloaded.

"But damn, won't anything ever work as I wish ?"

"Mike, is there a problem ?" that was Violet's voice. "We've heard you screaming in the loudspeaker..."

"No, that's okay, Violet, that's okay..."

"Are you sure ? You sound very worried."

"It's nothing. It's just that... waw, this program is very challenging. Nevermind. Let's focus on your escape. How are you doing so far ?"

Violet and Snake were back in the Juicing Room. Following Mike's advice, they had come back here to pick up the weapons from the dead WonkaBots and use them as personal guns. The girl didn't feel good at all: the place around her seemed to twirl crazily, like a tourniquet, and she believed she would spit out her stomach within a matter of seconds. In front of her, James and his twin - wait, he didn't have a twin, but she saw two of them - were holding a big blue rifle picked up from a robot and observing it hesitantly. They looked at her.

"Violet," they both said at the same time, though she heard only one voice, "you look terrible !"

She stepped forward, and fell on her knees. It was all moving like a boat in the middle of a storm, she wanted it to stop ! The two boys helped her at the same time, though only two arms belonging to only one boy grabbed her shoulders.

"It's turning and rocking," she moaned. "I'm gonna puke..."

"What's going on ?" asked Mike.

"She's drunk," the Snake replied, "dead drunk."

"Crap, it's all going wrong here ! Listen, Violet, I'm sorry, but we don't have time to let you have a rest. You'll have to get over it by yourself."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll try..."

She stood up weakly, and rubbed her eyes until James's "twin" disappeared.

"Okay, it's a little better. Now I understand why Mommy always says liquor is bad... but at least, I don't feel any pain anymore." She looked at the big gun. "Can you use it ?"

"I don't know, I haven't found how it works."

"I thought you knew how to use that stuff."

"It's different from a traditional rifle. Actually, the only guns I had the chance to handle so far were rusty Russian antiques. That thing is very advanced... never saw anything like that before. There, it must be that..."

Exploring his gun, he found a switch that looked like a trigger and pushed it. A storm of laser bullets illuminated the area, hitting the pipes with rushes of sparks, producing cracks that blasted in their ears. Violet bowed down by reflex. When the storm sounded like it had stopped, she got up to see James had dropped the gun. The barrel was smoking, so were all the pipes and structures that had been hit.

"Wow," he commented, his eyes wide with surprise. "Guess I found the trigger..."

"Nobody's wounded ?" asked Mike.

"No, that's okay. But that was tight."

"Fine. Now, let me explain, I found the booklet for these weapons. They're meant to be used by robots, but they can also be handled manually if needed. You guess the button you found is the trigger. Push it once to produce a three-round burst, and keep your finger on it to have continuous fire. Don't worry about the ammos, that thing works with an integrated laser generator that produces almost infinite supply."

"Cool. And what's that red button over there ?"

"Do not touch that red button, that's an advice I give you. It's a rocket launcher."

"What ?"

"Each rifle possesses one high-caliber rocket that can be fired with this red button. There's only one per rifle, but one is fairly enough to make a crater of this place. So you'd better stick to the laser. Oh, and one more thing: as you have ascertained, Jim, there's a lot of recoil. So make sure you're standing well on your feet. Especially you, Violet."

"Oh, bugger off ! That little shooting game made me recover well, anyway."

She picked up her rifle. It was not that heavy, but she didn't feel at ease carrying this stuff. She guessed everyone felt a little uneasy the first time they carried a firearm.

"Are we going ?" James asked.

"Yeah. Straight to the elevator."

"Don't worry," said Mike, "I'll guide you through. Don't forget to stop at Basement 5 to pick up Charlie and Veruca."

"We won't, no problem. You sure you're not coming with us ?"

"No, you need someone to look after you. There's lots of work here. Besides, I may have found Augustus..."

Violet raised her eyebrows. "Really ?"

"Well, not really. On some screens I can sometimes see someone who looks like him, but I don't know... not the same body type... he's in the deep underground. I'll keep on searching. Go on, and good luck !"

"Okay. And, Mike ?"

"Yes ?"

"Thank you. You're coming, Snake ?"

Now well armed, the two kids confidently left the room, coming back to the dreaded white corridor. Well, this time, with Mike guiding them, they sure wouldn't get lost, would they ?

"It's very quiet," commented Violet.

"Yep. Much too quiet for me... I don't like that."

"Snake instinct ?"

"Sort of..."

They kept walking. Violet was right, there was not a sound, nothing to disturb the kids. It seemed as though they were exploring an abandoned building. And that really wasn't to comfort them. At least, when there was action, they knew they were in danger. Here, it could come out anytime, without warning. Violet staggered, and fell again on her knees.

"You're okay ?" Snake asked as he gave her his hand.

"Yes. Guess I'm still a little drunk. How can you stand on your feet after all those bottles ?"

"At the beginning it does that, but then, you can't do without. Where do you think Russian soldiers find all their courage ?"

"You're just a bunch of drunkards !" she laughed. "Wait, I'm gonna get up... here. We can go on."

----------

A few floors down, a door opened before Charlie and Veruca, letting them enter a large square space that seemed to have no ceiling, or if it had one, it was much too high above their heads for them to see it. The place was so high that simply looking up would give them a vertigo. And the stairway was running along the walls all the way to the top, a square spiral that went up infinitely. Veruca was impressed.

"And you went all the way down here ?"

"Seems so... but I wasn't exactly myself when I did. I think it was about as high in my dream. Except it was a straight stairway. Anyway, the sooner we start, the sooner we're finished."

And on these words, the young boy climbed the first stair.

"Wait !" the girl screamed, a little too high. Her scream made her sound like a scared chick. Charlie let out a giggle.

"What's going on _again _?"

"Are you sure it's perfectly safe in here ? If something happens half-way..."

"It is safe," replied Mike's invisible voice.

"By the way, why do we have to climb up that staircase ? Can't we just go to the elevator ourselves ?"

"No, you can't. Basement 5 is the nearest place that is not riddled with dangerous areas, and you're not even armed. I'm very busy, and I can't always keep an eye on you."

He was getting a big nose, Charlie thought. Here he was acting like a bored baby-sitter !

"So, are we going, Veruca ?" he asked.

"Okay, we go."

They then proceeded to climb up, and they were not about to finish.

"If I knew it would be that long," commented the girl, "I would have brought a sandwich."

They both laughed.

----------

Violet was regaining her wits. Walking along those endless hallways and carrying that heavy stuff of a gun were a good exercise for her. However, along with the clear mind came back the stress of the situation, and she found herself unable to slow down her walk, eventually distancing James.

"Hey," he called, "can't you slow down ?"

"And you," she replied a little too aggressively, for she was simply being nervous, "can't you speed up ?"

"No, I can't. If I walk too fast, I get tired. And no need to be so harsh, you're not in your school, here."

"Oh, shut up !"

He stopped behind her. "What'ssssssssss the matter ?"

A violent chill ran up her spine, and she had a start. She turned round, furious:

"Don't do that, you know it freaks me out, you dirty... !"

"Yes, I know. And in the same way, it really annoys me when you become aggressive, now calm down, young lady."

"If you want me to calm down, you'd better first stop talking like a big brother !"

_Impulse._

Before she ever had the time to see him move, he had her pinned against a wall. Afraid by this sudden brutality, she still tried to withstand his look.

"Now, listen to me, girl: I'm not trying to be condescending or anything, but you need to realize that we are all in the same shit, and we all want to get out of this damned place alive ! So let us not fight each others, I bet that's exactly what Wonka wants."

She sighed. He was right. "Okay, I'm sorry. It's just... this place makes me nervous..."

"We're all nervous."

"You don't look nervous."

"I always look calm. But still, I am nervous."

He released her, and they resumed their walk without a word. She didn't tell him, but she felt a little more relaxed after this outburst. In front of them there was a hatch bearing the mention _Liquid Sky Dreams_, and the hallway was continuing on the right. The room's name was intriguing, but they'd better continue straight up. The girl reached out and grabbed the hatch's handle.

"No, not there."

It was Mike speaking. The two kids lifted their heads and searched the ceiling until they saw a tiny black scope in a corner, looking at them. The Kid Almighty resumed:

"It's a dangerous area out there."

"What's inside ?"

"I dunno, I don't control this zone. Continue on your right, then left at the first crossroads."

They then abandoned the door and followed his path.

"My mother would kill to have a GPS like him," Violet commented. "But I wonder what was inside ? _Liquid Sky Dreams_... sounds cute."

"Yep, unless you only take the first letters."

Mike's path soon led them to another hatch, this one bearing the name _Wonderland Backstage_.

"Is there some kind of in-joke ?" the girl wondered. "No matter how hard he tries, this Wonka guy is just not funny."

"British humor, I guess. Mike ?"

"This room's safe. That's some kind of lab, maybe you'll learn more inside. I don't really have time to read all the infos."

"That's okay," said Violet, "but do we really have to go inside ?"

"No, but it's a pretty good shortcut. You just have to cross this lab to reach the elevator."

"Oh, goodie. Let's get going, then."

And courageously, the girl grabbed the handle and pulled it, while Snake kept his rifle aimed at the opening, just in case. But there was nothing threatening. They entered the room.

"Wait a minute, are we back to the Inventing Room ?"

That was the first impression they had when they discovered the place: blue floor, dark walls, and all those huge spheric machines linked to each others and to oversized mixing bowls by sets of pipes carrying all sorts of liquids, mixing them, bringing them to other machines further, from where the liquids would come out in a solid, candy shape, and then carried away by conveyor belts, all of this, of course, in a joyous cacophony of mechanic purrings, steam whistlings, and liquid bubblings. Yes, it was the exact remake of the Inventing Room, a few details excepted: first, it was bigger, and contained lots of more machines, sometimes identical, whereas all the machines of the Inventing Room were unique. Second, this room contained a few desks with control monitors, but no boards with test tubes and experimental devices as in the other room. And finally, nothing in this room bore the mention "prototype".

"This must be a production room," Jim supposed as they began rambling around. Nothing looked dangerous, here. There was a machine that produced chocolate beans that literally rained out of a pipe into cardboard boxes. And over there, colorful jelly bugs that could actually move passed by on a conveyor belt. They were given different shapes, but the most popular seemed to be the scorpions and spiders. Ew, spiders... Jim preferred not to think about them for the moment. Oh, and over there, sugar eggs that produced real chocolate birds ! And there, a huge ice-cream machine with dozens of different flavors ! Violet was getting hungry...

"I'd like an ice-cream," she said.

"You may not if you knew what's actually inside. When it says it cannot melt, it sure's not natural."

"Yuk, it must be riddled with chemicals, then. It's just like _Batman_, poisoning everything that's good. Isn't there anything normal in here ?"

He smiled. "Come with me."

He brought her to a corner of the room where cotton candy was being made in a particular way: something that looked like pink sheep fur would fall from the ceiling into a bowl where it got melted and mixed with a generous amount of sugar.

"So what ? It's cotton candy..."

He kept smiling at her, and slowly removed a board on the side of the machine.

"I think I know what he's about to show you," Mike said, "and it's not very nice..."

Now, the girl was getting apprehensive. Why were they so mysterious ? Jim took a large steel bottle, like a gas tank, from into the machine, and open it to pour its content on the floor.

"Sugar ?" she guessed.

"It looks like sugar. Now, taste it."

Doubtful, she bent down and took a pinch of sugar. She put it in her mouth, and spat it out immediately.

"Yuk, it's sour ! That is not sugar ! Wait... is it cocaine ?"

He didn't answer, but the look he gave her meant it all.

"Come on, you gotta be kidding !"

Still no answer.

"Or maybe not..."

"We discovered that this morning," Mike said. "In the Chocolate Room, and in the Inventing Room. Everything that comes out of this place is rotten with chemicals. Now that I'm searching a little about this room, I see LSD and hallucinogene mushrooms are also being used. And even some chemicals I've never heard of before. Carcinogen and teratogen substances. This can't mean anything good."

"But why ? Why would he do such a thing ? What is his purpose ?"

"I don't know," James said, "but there's something yet more troublesome."

"What is it ?"

"He's taking a great risk trying to kidnap you. That Golden Tickets contest, all the advertisement about it, now all the media of the world are talking about it. It would be terrible for his business if all the winners suddenly came to... disappear. What I don't understand is why is he taking such a risk to abduct you five, when he could have just picked five street kids at random and no-one would know about it."

"Waw... you're right. I didn't think about it."

"I did think about it too," Mike intervened, "but there's no mention of it anywhere in the database. If it was all part of a plan, I haven't found it."

"There must be a plan," Jim said, "Wonka is a very intelligent man. But this plan must be so fucking twisted that we're not about to find it."

Violet shivered. She didn't like that creepy story at all. "And I was too obsessed about the competition to see it coming... I'm a loser."

"You were, just like Mike. And Augustus was too obsessed with eating candy, Veruca was too obsessed with getting everything she wants, and Charlie was too obsessed with meeting Willy Wonka in person. You're children, that's all. Anyone else would get caught just like you, in your place."

"Then we've got to destroy this place !" she declared. "To make sure he will never lure any kid in here again, and everything he has in mind won't happen."

"No, we won't. My job is to get you all out of here, that's all. Then, we'll leave this to professionals."

"But you're a professional !"

"Yes, and as such, I will focus on what I'm paid for. Let's go, we've lost enough time here."

The girl looked at a small spheric machine right beside her. By resentment, she punched it as hard as she could. She didn't destroy it but it shook. And a siren started screaming at this moment. She had a start.

"Oh, crap !"

"Violet, what did you do ?"

"I... I dunno," she began to panick, "I just... oh, shit, what's going on ?"

"Don't be afraid," said Mike, "the alarm doesn't come from your section. There's been an error in... damn, that's Charlie and Veruca !"

"What ? Are they in danger ?"

"I'll take care of it. You run to the elevator and do as we planned."

----------

The two other kids would have paid the price to be in their friends' place at this moment. Because here as they were, in the middle of the stairs, they were far from comfortable. They were already high above the ground, but still far from the top, and in their position, their only two options were to keep going, or to descend. Which meant they had no way to escape in case of emergency. And now, with a bright flickering red light and a loud siren in the staircase, like an alarm from a video-game, it looked like a case of emergency. They both stuck to the wall, unmoving, not knowing what to expect. They were so terribly exposed and vulnerable !

"What's gonna happen ?" Veruca asked.

"It's just an alarm," Charlie replied. "Mike's in control, there can't be any real danger. Come on, we've gotta get out of here."

On these words, he climbed three more stairs, and he turned round. She wasn't following.

"So, are you coming ?"

She shook her head. "We may not move until Mike tells us it's okay. You never know, these stairs can be riddled with death traps !"

He sighed. Okay, she could have been his big sister, but damn, what a wuss !

"If a trap is ever to be activated in this place, we might be better off before it does, don't you think ? So let's hurry up those stairs now. Come on."

He gingerly took her hand, and together they resumed their climbing. But after a few stairs, she froze, again.

"Didn't you hear something ?"

"Hear what ? This noise is making me crazy !"

"I heard like... and now it's a feeling under my feet. Don't you feel it too ? Feels like... the stairs ! They're moving !"

He was about to ask her what she meant when he felt it too. It was vibrating under his feet. And worse, it looked as if the stairs were getting narrower. Progressively narrower and narrower, in a matter of millimeters, it was almost impossible to distinguish, yet when you noticed it you couldn't deny it. It didn't mean that ?

"They're retracting into the walls !" Veruca screamed.

Oh, no, that was it ! A trap or a security device, he didn't know how to call it, but they got caught ! If they stayed here, they would be squeezed between the wall and the banister. It they jumped out, they would crash about twenty meters below. And of course, there was too little time to run to the top or to get back down.

"We're stuck !" he screamed.

"Oh, my God !" Veruca yelled while clenching her arms around him, so tightly that she almost choked him. "What are we gonna do ?"

He didn't know, his mind was racing to find a solution. _Don't let panic invade you, boy... _but it would be easier without that damn siren !

"This way !" he screamed, pointing at his miraculous discovery: there was an iron water tube running up the wall, in a corner. It was large enough for the kids to grip on it. They ran like Hell, feeling the stairway getting narrower after each step, and by the time they had reached the tube, there was barely enough place left for a foot. Charlie jumped on the large iron pipe and gripped on two large bolts. Veruca missed her jump and gripped on the boy's waist, putting a higher charge on his arms. He groaned under the effort.

The stairs disappeared completely into the wall, letting the poor children hanging over what had now become a deep pit. The siren and the lights faded, leaving them in darkness and silence.

"We made it !" Veruca exclaimed.

"Yeah, but could you grip on something else ? You're heavy."

"Oh, you know how to talk to the ladies !" she replied ironically.

He sighed. "There's no more stairs. We'll never be able to climb all the way to the top. Unless we get back down and find another way. Or maybe Mike could help. Mike ?"

He began screaming his name, and Veruca rejoined him, when the red light came back in the room, and an automatic voice anounced:

"Attention ! Commencing pest disposal process. Please stay away while the operation is being performed."

"What ? What's going on, Mike ? Mike !"

"I know, I'm here !" he replied, slightly angry. "Things get messed up here, Wonka infiltrated my network and he's wreaking havoc ! I'm trying to set things right, but it's pretty tough."

Below the kids, about at the level where they had started climbing, a bright yellow light appear, radiating all over the bottom of the pit, and slowly mounting with a sort of savage growl. Veruca felt her dangling legs getting hot. And hotter. To a point it almost began to hurt. The yellow light was approaching... but that was not a light, that was a barrier of flames !

"MIIIIIIIIKE !" her shriek could have turned Antarctica into ice cubes with its power. She had escaped the Blast Furnace risking her life multiple times, it was not to end up barbecued here !

Charlie looked down, and began to realize the situation too. "Mike," he said, "if you have a brilliant idea, it's about time to use it, and I'm serious, man !"

"I know !" he sounded as panicked as they were. "I'm doing my best ! Just hold on a few seconds !"

If only they could ! The fire barrier was very close.

"It's hot ! It's hot !" screamed Veruca as she pedalled crazily in the air to avoid getting burned. Charlie could also feel the heat from where he was. It was really getting urgent !

"Mike !"

"I need a few more seconds !"

"We can't hold any longer ! If you don't do anything now, we're fried !"

"Don't move, Charlie !" Veruca suddenly exclaimed. "Think I got an idea !"

And without giving him the time to ask, she pulled herself up, put her feet on his laps, and like a gymnast, climbed onto him until their roles were reversed and she was standing with a foot on a bolt and the other on top of his head.

"What are you doing ?" he asked.

"Just don't move, I need balance. I hope it's gonna work !"

She grabbed something with her hands. Something round and red, like a wheel... a valve ! How did he not notice it sooner ? In a strong move, the girl turned the valve to its maximum, and a sudden opening appeared higher on the tube, delivering a dense rain of hot water ! That shower was extremely unpleasant, but as Charlie looked down, he saw the flames slowing down, and finally stop to remain in a stable position. She had saved their lives with that water ! A few seconds passed, and the flames disappeared completely.

"I did as fast I could," said Mike. "No-one is hurt ?"

"No, Mike," Charlie said. "No-one is hurt." He looked up at Veruca. "Thanks to you."

She gave him a victorious smile as she turned the valve again to stop the rain. They were safe at last, but the atmosphere was almost unbearable. There was a thick mist, and the air was hot and wet like the Amazonian forest. As he observed Veruca, Charlie thought she did indeed look like an Amazon at this moment: breathing heavily, her wet dark hair stuck to her face, her wet clothes stuck to her body and that tired but victorious expression on her face, right now, made her look like a character from an adventure movie. She was splendid... that's about when she realized that she was standing over his head, and she was wearing a skirt. She gave him a soft kick.

"Aouch ! What's wrong ?"

"You think I'm blind ?" she giggled. "I know what you were looking at !"

She couldn't tell if he was blushing or if it was the heat, but he was cute. She bent down, and with his help, she descended to his level, so close that they were almost hugging each others.

"You look wet and miserable," she said with a smile.

"Thanks, you too."

They laughed. That wasn't the first time this day that they nearly escaped death, but they would never get used to it.

"Now," he asked, getting serious again, "how are we supposed to move on ?"

"Guys," Mike intervened, "I got an idea. Just keep close to the tube, as close as you can."

And the second after, the whole area was invaded by a set of large and long steel spikes, like oversized syringes, that popped through the wall with a striking noise. They were in a large number and placed all over the pit, in a way that anyone, no matter where he stood, would get struck when they appeared. Actually, the only place that was safe from those pipes was the water tube. That looked like a trap coming right out of _Tomb Raider _or _The Cube_.

"Waw, where do these come from ?"

"That was the other trap of this room," Mike said. "You're lucky it's not the one Wonka triggered."

"Maybe he didn't mean to kill us," Veruca said. "Maybe he wants us alive."

"Anyway, I'll let those spikes out. Their sides are not sharp, so you can climb them up to Basement 5. Snake and Violet will meet you there."

"Okay, see you later, Mike. And thank you."

"You're welcome. Wait, is that Augustus ?"

"What ?"

"I think I saw him again, on a monitor. Don't know exactly where he is. Nevermind, you just climb up and wait for my instructions."

----------

The voices came from nowhere to his ears, again. Was it Mike talking ? It was supposed to, but the voice sounded more like Wonka's. Oh, whatever. Augustus didn't give a damn about who was talking to him. He didn't even remember who exactly was Mike, and who was Wonka. If you asked him, now, what had happened since the morning, he wouldn't be able to give an answer. For him, it all felt like a dream. Everything that could have happened before the moment when he woke up in that... that cellar, for he couldn't find a better word to describe the place, seemed unreal, hallucinative. He vaguely remembered a river made of chocolate, and a laser, and a tribe of pirhana-like Pygmies... what the Hell was this dream about ? Could any of this have really happened ? He didn't know. Were there other kids with him before ? He didn't know. Where was he ? In a cellar, for the rest, he didn't know. Wait, _who_ was he ? He didn't know. The voices kept saying Augustus. That had to be his name, then. The voices were the only thing he was slightly conscious of. He didn't know anything and he didn't want to. For only the voices mattered. Whatever was supposed to happen now, the voices would tell him what to do. He walked, along a narrow and dark alley, with no way to see where he was rowing. Only the voices were guiding him. Maybe it was the way out of this basement. He heard water up ahead. No, it was more the sound of a machine... anyway, that had to be the right direction. To where ? Nevermind, just walk and see. Then he walked. Each of his heavy steps echoed loudly in the concrete structure. He felt like a dinosaur walking, and he liked that. That feeling of... power. He could destroy anything. And he certainly would if he found something to pick on. His hands clenched the sledgehammer tighter. A few minutes before, he had passed through a storage containing a variety of construction tools. The question of what these tools were doing here in the first place never came to his brain. That was the voices' job to mind these details. The voices had told him to pick a weapon, and he had chosen a sledgehammer.

The noise was stronger. It was definitely a liquid sound. A washing-machine, a hundred times bigger than any other washing-machine, that's what he first thought of. There was also humidity in the air. The concrete walls were wet at some places, and he could hear casual drops falling on the floor. In front of him, he saw a dull, grey light. There was a more open space ahead, and judging by the echo coming from there, it was particularily wide. He moved on, his steps echoing even more. When he finally emerged from the hallway, it was to find himself on a steel bridge overhanging a room at least ten times wider than a 747 hangar and about three times higher than a missile silo. Because of the very weak lighting, the boy just barely perceived an inscription painted on the wall, but still he could read:

_Main Generator. Basement 10._

Looking around, Augustus saw a steel obelisk, thirty or forty meters away from him, in the middle of the room. The monument was emerging from the darkness below - it was so deep he could actually not see the ground from his position - but judging by its width and the way it was erecting majestically, its actual height had to be out of competition. Though it did not really evoke a monument: its greenish metallic structure and cylindrical shape made it look more like the biggest alkaline cell in the world. This oversized battery was surrounded by a mazy network of bridges, catwalks, pipes and cables, running around it in a helix pattern from the highest to the lowest level of the structure, like a titanesque spider web made of metal, and the bridge he was standing on was just a small part of it. The whole construction was vibrating silently but with an intense energy, glowing with a dull, acid green light. The generator was a threatening, sleeping giant. Augustus was unimpressed. This machine, however huge it was, was of no interest whatsoever. Even the voices, in this place, had lost their appeal. There was something else, here, that was exciting him, he could almost smell it but he didn't know what it was... there ! Against a wall, not very far from him, an imposing white shape, like the bottom of a storage tank, was appearing from the ceiling. Being of rather massive proportions, the whole tank had to extend beyond the basement, and what Augustus saw was merely an extremity. He followed the bridge until he was under the tank. Yes, that was coming from inside. There was something living inside, and that was oddly attractive to him, so powerfully attractive, actually, that he felt a primal need taking over the few remains of his reason: he had to destroy that tank. The voices told him not to. The voices told him it was dangerous, and they told him he was supposed to focus on finding the other kids. He didn't give a damn about the other kids ! For there was something into that tank, a living being that was just asking to get out ! He ignored the voices. He held out his hammer high, and struck.

----------

"Did you hear that ?" Violet asked.

"Hear what ?" James replied, absorbed in the observation of DMT-filled lollipops. The drug was always induced in tiny quantities, so as not to be detected and produce minimum short-term effects, but enough to create a dependency. He had to admit that was brilliant.

"I don't know... think I heard like a buzz... like a big wasp."

"Violet ? Jim ? You're still there ?" asked Mike. "I thought I told you to leave."

"I know, Mike," she said, "we were just..."

Actually, they had stopped in front of the machine where three-course-meal gums were produced. The sight of the gums had given Violet stomach aches. The so-called prototypes were already set for mass production. After all, the chocolatier didn't seem to want to correct the formula. And then, one thing bringing another, they had stayed to observe the other deadly treats in production.

"Anyway," the computer god said, "you'll be happy to learn that Charlie and Veruca are safe and sound. They're going up as planned. Apparently, Wonka can still activate traps and a few security systems. So be careful."

"Talking about it, can you check our room ? I heard a strange noise, and..."

"What the fuck ! Sorry, I just checked the motion sensor, you're not alone ! There are about a dozen things moving very fast !"

"What is it ? Can't see anything here !"

She looked around carefully, breathing loudly in expectation. James was alert. But they saw nothing, though now the "wasp sound" was clearly audible. They had to be moving around the machines, and the kids didn't even know what "they" were. Then, a sudden gust of wind passed right in front of Violet's face, and before she ever had the time to make a move, she saw a lock of her blue hair falling on the floor, neatly cut. She froze. What was that ? James then brutally tackled her down, and she felt a sudden, acute pain on her shoulder before she hit the ground.

"You okay ?" he asked.

She stood back up, and saw a neat cute in her tracksuit, at the shoulder. It was bleeding lightly.

"What the Hell are these things ?" she yelled.

"Listen up, guys," Mike intervened, nervous, "move out of here quick ! These things are flying blades !"

"What ?"

But Violet didn't need any precision, and two of the aggressors appeared in front of the kids, on stand-by. These were very small and simple machines, solely composed of a glowing red eye and two rotative sawblades. These were, however, of ferocious appearance, hovering like metal hornets. Jim screamed:

"Duck !"

Which they did just in time, as the robot razors dashed and flew over their heads to reappear behind, missing them closely. Other machines arrived, forming like a swarm.

"Duck !"

The wasp-like robots rushed again and missed them tightly again. Snake stood up and proceeded to fire at will, his laser shots destroying machines, pipes and containers in a fireworks display of sparks and liquid candy. None of the blades was hit, but a strange purple mist was taking shape around them. They began to cough.

"Whangdoodle venom !" Mike screamed. "It evaporates in contact with the air and chokes people. Leave now, for Heaven's sake !"

This time they obeyed: they turned their heels and ran to the hatch on the opposite side. The mist was getting thicker, and progressively, their lungs felt like they were filled with lead. Soon, they saw nothing but purple haze around them, with glowing red eyes here and there. At least, the razors were almost blind in that fog, but the kids still had to dodge a few of them on the way. Violet got cut once again on the arm. Snake got cut on the thigh. Upon eventually reaching the hatch, Violet gripped to the handle and turned it with desperate energy. The door opened. Behind it was the elevator. They jumped inside and hurried to the "Up" button. They began to mount. The elevator was unaffected by the poisonous mist, and they could breathe again. But it was mounting too slowly, and it was still open to the lab they had just left. They saw the red eyes approaching. They held their rifles ready... the opening was disappearing progressively as the elevator mounted. It was okay. They thought.

"Damn, it's entering !"

It was faster than them, and it had made it in at the very last moment: one blade entered just as the opening disappeared and began to buzz around, hitting the steel walls with bursts of sparks, flying aimlessly and nervously like a panicked butterfly trapped in a bottle. Except that this butterfly could kill, and there was not much room for the kids to dodge in that place ! They stuck to opposite walls, watching the thing like thieves watching a vicious guard dog. It rushed to James. Using his superhuman speed, he managed to dodge it tightly, and the blade bounced against the wall to go back right into Violet. She had the most improbable of reflexes: she jumped and performed a split between the walls, à la Jean-Claude Van Damme. The blade passed between her legs. She jumped back down, and shot. It was her first time experiencing recoil, and it felt like her shoulder was being ripped apart. Of course, with her inexperience, the laser bullet missed the robot, but reflected against the wall that acted like a mirror, and came back to her, crashing barely two centimeters away from her head ! So, using the guns in the elevator was suicide, and they had no room to dodge. In panic, she began to pray for them to reach the fifth basement alive...

----------

Augustus was on his butt, and now, even with his robot-like determination, he wondered if he had done anything wrong: his strike had dug a hole in the white tank, delivering a flow of dirty green water which extreme pressure had properly knocked him on his butt and ripped the hammer away from his hands, right into the dark bottom of the room. He got up, had a look over the bridge, but all he could see was the green water escaping from the tank that was pouring down and slowly filling the room. Damn, he didn't know it could contain so much ! Before, all he could see when he looked down was darkness, now it was greenness, as if a lake was being formed under him. This didn't look good. Had he done something wrong ? And this water, it was... it was not water, it was more like... toxic wastes. It had a muddy aspect, and it smelled like roasted rubber, that was properly disgusting. What in the world could be living in such a goo ? He looked at the tank, and as he focused on it, he could hear... like knocks... and cracks. Uh-oh... of course, so much liquid escaping from such a small hole, it was creating an infernal pressure inside ! The tank... it could explode ! Regaining his wits, the big boy ran as fast as he could - not that fast, actually, considering his heavy mass of muscles - and took the first way out of the place. What he didn't see, then, was that gross, abnormally fleshless limb that once was a human arm, popping out of the hole in the tank. Yes, there was definitely something living inside, and it was dying to get out... underneath, the green lake in making began to flood the base of the generator. There was a bright and resounding electric arc. And another, even brighter. And a third one that ran from the base to the top of the metallic pillar. The machine was never meant to be in direct contact with a liquid, and certainly not that toxic substance. Finally, there was a loud bang, the lights went down, and it stopped vibrating.

----------

In the elevator, the flying razor suddenly fell dead in front of the kids. They were rather... surprised.

"What happened ? It died straight away, we didn't even touch it !"

And as a response, the elevator stopped, and its lights went out. There was not a sound anymore.

"It looks like a power outage," James said.

Violet looked in his direction, but in the dark, she could just barely distinguish his figure. "A power outage ? How is it possible ?"

"I don't know..."

"Mike ?"

"He can't hear you if there's no more power. At least, I think so."

She thought so too, but she had to try anyway. She didn't want to remain in a stuck elevator in the dark.

"You know," he said, "this breakdown can be an advantage..."

He was interrupted by a sudden jerk of the elevator. Violet let out a gasp. It was now moving slowly, almost undistinctively.

"Is it working again ?" she asked.

"I don't know. Feels more like... it's descending... get down, Violet, it smells no good at all..."

What happened next confirmed his suspicions: there was a terrific loud clash, the sound produced by the cables when they broke out. And the elevator descended at breakneck speed, in a total free fall.

"We're gonna crash !" Violet screamed, as she was crawling on the floor and struggling not to get pinned against the ceiling by the speed. James was struggling as much as she was, but he had no answer to give her. Unless the emergency brakes were still working, they were definitely going to crash with nothing to do against that.

----------

Meanwhile, somewhere else in the building, a group of little people patrolling the hallways stopped and stood still, surprised by the sudden darkness that had caught them off-guard. The man leading the group turned toward his followers - though he couldn't really see them - and told them something in their own, unknown language. So they waited. If everything was still working properly, the alternative generator would take the lead and re-activate some of the basic survival systems - including of course lighting and security - in a matter of seconds. A second passed... and another... still nothing, and the leader was beginning to worry. It was not a _total _black-out, was it ? Finally, an engine could be heard purring far away, and the light came back in the corridor. First bright to almost being blinding, it quickly dimmed to only bright enough to distinguish the immediate surroundings. The leading Oompa Loompa guessed it was a matter of low voltage in the alternative system. After all, it was the first time the Factory experienced a power outage, and the rescue generator was maybe not as powerful as they thought it was. Anyway, they had to do with the few light they had and hope that Team A had more chance. For the leading man was not the Loompa King, he was merely the second in command. They had split up into two groups to search different places. The Loompa King and his terrible mantis robot had the lead of Team A. Here, they were Team B. The leader held out his spear and ordered to move on. It was quite a contrast to see this group of warriors, dressed in bright jumpsuits, but armed with very traditional equipment, spears and bows. For there was no laser adapted to their size, except the pyrotechnics launchers, but these were not mobile weapons. Whatever, they were masters in using bows, no need for...

_Stop !_

The leader held out his hand to give this order, without speaking. They had to be silent, now, for there was a prey right ahead. They could distinguish its figure dancing in the shadow. From their position, they couldn't even tell if it was a boy or a girl, but it was clear the kid wasn't wearing a skirt, so it could be anyone but Veruca Salt. They bent down, making themselves even smaller than usual, and crawled to their prey. He or she was not really dancing, more staggering, and shaken with violent spasms, as if he or she was sick or heavily drunk. They kept moving. The kid would soon be at range. But something was wrong: even in the dim light, they should have been able to distinguish clothes, or hair color, something, but they didn't. The staggering sick child in front of them appeared as black as a piece of coal. And even his way of moving was too distorted, unnatural. It looked more like... no, it couldn't be. Unless a fool had decided to open the tank, but no-one would be so suicidal... the Oompa Loompa raised his spear, aimed, and shot. The spear drew a perfect line in the air and ended its course in the child's chest.

_YYYYYYYaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh !_

That scream ! The Oompa Loompas put their tiny hands on their tiny ears, and they couldn't believe it. The child had produced a sound, half-way between a little girl's scream and a high-pitched, dinosaur-like sound. No human, and possibly no creature in the world had the lungs to produce such a terrible cry. That was a child from the tank, no doubt about that, and it was running towards the dwarves, whining, shaking its distorted limbs in an unquenchable and primal murderlust.

----------

Wonka turned a small switch, producing a spark in the dark. He quickly withdrew his hand, and put it back to turn the switch back off. He waited a few seconds. That was a chance he never took his gloves off, this way he couldn't receive a shock. He turned the switch on again. This time, instead of the spark came a reassuring mechanic hum.

"Coming back..." he said, satisfied. And as he said so, the lights indeed came back in Basement 13, and the chocolatier's computer lighted up like a Christmas tree. He didn't waste any second before going back to work. He had to re-initialize the system before Mike did. The two men were on a constant race for the control of the computer, and at this point, just after the breakdown, the system was at its most vulnerable point, which meant one of them could take total control of it at any moment. Mr Wilkinson arrived behind:

"Boss, is everything alright ? It seems like there was a..."

"A failure, I know. It's Augustus... seems like we gave him too strong a dose. He went berserk and destroyed the tank. Now, he's disappeared."

"Wait a minute, do you mean _the _tank ?"

"Precisely. The generator was partially flooded, this created a short circuit. Thanks to the emergency power, we still have the security working, but that's all we've got."

"Should we send the Oompa Loompas up to re-launch the generator ?"

"No, too risky. The... content of the tank must have invaded all the inferior levels by now, and some of them, I'm sure, could even have climbed up to the upper basements."

He looked at the ceiling, then at his assistant, and smiled sadistically.

"It's not a Factory up there," he said. "Now, it's a hunting ground. We can use it to our advantage. The kids must be completely disoriented, and Mike, with all the processes that are stopped and the others that are out of control, won't be of much help. Move our squad of WonkaBots as planned, and set the ambush. I'm gonna try to repair the system, meanwhile. We've played this game for too long. We can't let them win."

"Understood, Boss."

"Mr Wilkinson ?"

"Yes ?"

"If we get Augustus back... maybe we can keep him. He can be very useful with his strength. He may be even stronger than Meat."

"Yes, sir. I'll try to get him back."

_Outside..._

"Sir, there's motion !"

Lieutenant Roarke immediately stood up. He had been waiting, sitting in the snow for... how long ? The night was falling already. He was told by one of his men that it was five o'clock. The poor children had been locked in this building for seven hours, then. Of course he tried to reassure the parents, but he was actually very pessimistic concerning their chances to survive. Seven hours meant about six hours and a half too much for them to get killed - or worse. He couldn't tell how much time had passed since their failed attempt at breaking in - it felt like aeons ago ! - but nothing had changed since then. Mr Teavee's hacking strategy had not brought anything new, the magnetic field was still on, and the puppets were still preventing an assault from occurring. The children's families were distressed. A few moments ago, a woman wearing a Chanel suit who reeked of Martini had arrived in a Mercedes, screaming hysterically to see her daughter - she was later introduced as Mrs Salt. Mrs Gloop had awakened and, just like Mr Teavee, was hung to her phone, trying to reassure the family that had stayed in the country. There were two Buckets waiting here, the old man and either the father or the mother, one of them having to stay in the house with the grandparents. Only Miss Beauregard was alone, wandering among the tents and vehicles. The soldiers had installed a rack beside one of their trucks to display their rifles, and she was now looking at the guns in a way Lieutenant Roarke profoundly disliked. It was not mere curiosity. He had seen the same look in the eyes of spree killers, psychopaths and terrorists. It was fascination. He thought he might have to look after her, in case she tried to make a big mistake. But later. Now, he had to see what was going on.

He rejoined his men near the armored truck, to have a clear view on the courtyard. To the soldiers' greatest surprise, the killer dolls were raising from the snow, and disappearing, and raising and disappearing again, in a strange ballet. Then, that annoying music could be heard again. It all looked like it was going on freewheel. Roarke's instinct ticked. Something was about to happen.

"Shields !" he ordered, and immediately, his men raised high kevlar shields to protect their unit. It was tight, a few seconds later, a haze of bullets stormed out of the dolls, firing at random. They then stopped, and went back underground. The music stopped. Around, the people had knelt down, their heads burried in their arms as a move of protection. They were scared, but no-one was hurt.

"Sir," a soldier asked, "what was that ?"

"Don't know, kid. It looked like these were out of control... something wrong's going on inside. Set a second attack team ready. We'll try another breakthrough in one hour."

----------

A hand appeared in the dark, like popping up from the ground. It gripped on the floor, and a second hand appeared. Finally, the head appeared, and Charlie finished to pull himself up and leave the cursed pit where he almost died. Veruca was following. He turned round, bent down, and grabbed her out. Here they were. Basement 5. Now, they just had to walk right ahead until they found the elevator where they would - at last ! - be reunited with Violet and Alex... James. Thinking that they really got separated in the Wallpaper Room, and so much happened since then ! But maybe they weren't out of trouble yet... for that sudden incident, with the darkness and silence that ensued, was not really a part of the original plan. Charlie moved to a wall, with the intent to lean against it and have a rest. Veruca immediately screamed him to wait and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"What's wrong ?"

In response, she pointed her fingers to the wall, behind him. He turned round to find himself face to face with a large circular sawblade that was emerging from the wall, motionless.

"Wow ! Thanks. One second too late, and I had a second smile behind the head !"

She chortled. "That's just like that _Indiana Jones _movie... why is it still like that ?"

"It must be a trap that found itself short on electricity. I wonder if..."

He took off his sweater and rolled it around his hands, like a rag you use to protect your hands when you take a hot plate from the oven.

"What are you doing, Charlie ?"

He then put his protected hands on the sides of the blade, trying to find a grip, and pulled. He had to try again about three or four times when, with a metallic squeak, the blade eventually emerged completely from the wall and fell at their feet. He picked it up and examined it: it was about the size and shape of a manhole cover, but its most surprising feature was its incredible lightness. Even with his skinny arms, Charlie could carry it with no efforts.

"What do you plan to do with that ?" she asked. "A weapon ?"

"Exactly. It's light enough to be thrown, like a frisbee."

"Well, I guess it could allow us at least five minutes to live if we're attacked. Mike, how is it going ? Mike ?"

The voice that came to them gave them a start, even if they were expecting it. Throughout their time spent in the Factory, there had always been noise, a machine heard far away or something like that. But now it was totally silent, like abandoned.

"I... r you."

"Mike, we can't hear you !"

"Know... cation... disord... eakdown."

His voice was perfectly inaudible through the interferences. It was like hearing someone through a World War 2 radio.

"Is it better, now ?"

The interferences were still present, but in a much lower frequency, so that Mike could be heard.

"Okay, seems to work. There's been a power outage, and we're working on the alternative power now. Damn, it's a real mess in the program ! The system was re-initialized, and trust me, millions of codelines being interrupted from their work is not a pretty sight ! Everything's like it's going nuts ! The lights are insufficient, the motion sensors are dead, some cameras are out of order, and there's that large tank that exploded for no reason !_ Jurassic Park_ is Disneyland in comparison. The good news is that you won't be bothered by traps anymore. Bad news is that I can't see you anymore. You made it to Basement 5 ?"

"We did."

"Okay... what's that ? Damn, another thing to add on my list of _all-going-wrongs_."

"What ?"

"The maintenance elevator you were supposed to take is broken. The cables have yielded. It's stuck in Basement 8. Violet and James are not hurt, thanks God, but you'll have to search for another path. I can't help you for the moment, gotta take care of the two others. See ya !"

The deadly silence came back. Veruca wrapped her arms around Charlie and held herself as close to him as she could, like a girl hugging her boyfriend after watching a horror movie. Even in their situation, Charlie couldn't help but sigh to contain that feeling of excitement that was coming back everytime she touched him. Hormones, damned hormones ! With her chest against his arm, he could feel her heart ponding.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered. "You heard Mike, there's no more traps."

"This doesn't mean we're safe. In the dark, everything can happen."

She suddenly remembered her pen light. She quickly picked it up and turned it on. Of course, the beam of light was still ridiculously small.

"Guess it's better than nothing..."

Charlie raised his free, trembling hand, and quite awkwardly caressed her hair.

"I'm sure there's nothing to worry about," he said in a comforting tone, trying without realizing it to imitate his mother. "It's as if we were out, now."

And so they went in the darkness, following the corridor. There was nothing to worry about, Veruca told herself. But if it was true... what was that crawling noise she just heard ?

----------

Snake opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Violet sleeping a few feet from him. He stood up. They were still in the elevator, which was now open to a sinister-looking passage. What had exactly happened ? His mind was blank between the moment when the cables broke off and now. He guessed they must have passed out for a few minutes. He gently awakened Violet. By chance, none of them was hurt, merely groggy. They regained their wits and their guns, and prayed to God... which meant in their case, calling for Mike.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. So, you guessed there was a black-out. Only a few systems are still working now, including, by chance, your friendly neighbor Mike Teavee."

"Okay," Violet said, "so what to do, now ?"

"Here's the deal: you're now stuck in Basement 8, and the elevator's dead, so you find another way up, and rendez-vous at Basement 2 as planned."

"Can you tell us more ?"

"I'm afraid not. I'm still trying to get the radars and sensors back on, you'll have to do it yourselves. But everything's out of order, there shouldn't be any problem. Good luck."

His voice went dead. He had hung up. Better get going, the kids told themselves as they walked to the passage. They began to curse the guy who invented those rifles, because he apparently considered adding a light or something was unnecessary. It's then blind as bats that they had to progress.

"So, we've arrived two basements below, in a place we know virtually nothing about, and worse, there's no more light ! I must've been drunk when I accepted that shitty mission !"

"And you dare to complain ? I wasn't even paid to come in this Hell, I was just promised tons of candy and a great contest ! How could I have believed such things do happen in reality ?"

"Yeah, good things never come out without their dark sides. I know a lot about that."

"Anyway, if there's one thing I learned today, that's it: never trust an adult. Whatever they may say, they will always try to screw you."

"Wise words... but it doesn't tell us how to get out."

"Hey, wait a minute ! Mike said a lot of things were disactivated, right ? Then we should be able to take that great communication passage without any danger, now ?"

"You're right, I think we could. I got no better idea, let's go for it. Wait !"

This time, it was James who heard a noise first. He made them stop after a few meters, and pointed out his gun. Violet looked at him, confused, and then she heard it too, a soft sound like someone walking by dragging their feet. She froze and pointed out her gun too. In the dark, she distinguished more than she saw a vaguely human shadow, far ahead. At this distance, she couldn't be positive about what she saw. The figure was extremely vague and seemed to move in a surreal, distorted manner, like a ghost. She had a chill of fear. The fear of what she couldn't see. Only then did she realize how vulnerable they were, when they couldn't see anything around them.

"It's a... it's an hallucination, isn't it ?"

"I'm afraid not... I can see it."

"How can you see it ?"

"Well, I don't really... I can see its thermal aura."

"Its what ?"

"Every living being possesses a thermal aura. And some animals - some reptiles - can see it. It looks like a human... but it has a way of moving, that's not natural... and it's much too hot for a human... I don't like that."

"Augustus ?"

"It's not... it's not anyone we know. It's getting closer. I really don't like that, Violet, let's find another way."

He was already stepping back. The girl was about to follow him when she heard something that made her stop. She heard a weak whining, like the cry of a wounded child.

"Wait, it's a kid !"

"How could it be ?"

"I don't know. Maybe we're not the only ones here... he looks hurt."

Overwhelmed by a sort of maternal instinct that made her forget fear, Violet faced the stranger that was staggering closer. To her companion's horror, she dropped her gun and began to walk ahead, reaching out her open hands and chanting comforting words.

"Violet, what the Hell are you doing ? We must go !"

"We can't abandon him here ! He must be terrified." she turned to the dark figure. "Come here, my friend. It's okay, you're safe with us."

The legendary quietness that characterized the Snake was wearing off. He had never seen such a thing before. It made his hands twitch when he looked at it.

"Violet, _this _is _not_ a child."

Too late for her ! The child was already at range, and she made eye contact with him. This moment, the moment when her blue eyes met two white, empty eyeballs, only lasted less than a second. But to her, it seemed like hours. Everything went in slow motion in her mind as she observed the stranger and realized all the extent of her mistake: the human-looking being was about her height, it was naked and its gender was unidentified. Its grey skin was smooth, totally devoid of hair, and so thin that with light, you could probably see through. It was terribly skinny, and its limbs were moving in a distorted, spasmodic manner that was not natural at all. Even a person suffering epilepsy could not move so fast. Its face was hardly human, with a mouth and two blank eyes, but it didn't have a nose or ears. And, Violet thought it was the most anguishing part, there was a weak, acid green glow radiating from its entrails. She saw all of that in a quarter of a second. Just before it emitted an ear-breaking screech and jumped on her.

She didn't see it coming, and she only had the time to blink before she got pinned against the wall.

"Help !" she screamed, just before it clenched its hands around her neck, cutting out her breath. The monster was strong, extremely strong, and its grasp was like having her neck stuck in a vise. She groaned in pain as the hot, steel-hard fingers dug in her tender skin. James came to help, and grabbed the monster from behind, to no avail: the monster merely jerked its head back, and it was fairly enough to throw the mercenary smashing on the opposite wall. Violet kept struggling, but its arms were not getting away, no matter how hard she pulled. She tried to kick its legs, but it didn't flinch and didn't even seem to feel any pain. It was hopeless ! She could already see red shadows before her eyes.

The monster's thumbs dug under her jaw and squeezed her salivary glands. The agonizing pain that ensued instantly pulled her out of her dizziness. In a move she would have thought impossible, she spread her legs at their maximum and passed them over her head to fold them around her aggressor's neck, in some kind of exaggerated scissor lock. This had to work ! She then let her upper body fall down and pulled as hard as she could on her dislocated legs. She hit the ground but the monster rolled over her and fell down too, releasing her under the shock. She did it ! She then quickly rolled away before it caught her back, and after she made a few feet, the hallway was illuminated by a serie of loud laser shots. The smoking body of the monster child remained still, lying lifeless on the floor. James arrived at the girl's level and helped her up.

"Sorry I didn't shoot earlier," he said, "I was afraid to hit you. Are you okay ?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but there only came out a violent serie of helpless coughs. Her legs were a little trembling from the exploit she had performed, but the worst was her throat, she felt like it was swollen like a balloon and each cough was like swallowing a piece of red hot iron.

"I think I'll have deep marks for this," she said with a hoarse voice while caressing her throat. "Tell me, can we have bruises when we already have a blue skin ?"

"I don't know... nice moves, anyway."

She smiled weakly, though he could barely see it.

"I guess I'm getting used to it... I'm much more flexible since I was squeezed. What was that thing ?"

They carefully approached the body, and Violet took her rifle back, just in case. Snake hit it several time with the tip of his barrel, but it didn't react. Its skin displayed various holes letting out a thin smoke that smelled like a burnt tyre. No doubt it was dead.

"God... that's horrible," he said. "It looks like... a zombie."

"And... you've already fought zombies before ?"

"Several times... in video games. I've always been positive that such things did not exist. But now..."

"Where could it come from ?"

"I don't know, but I don't think I want to. We don't know everything about what's really going on in this facility... it may be much, much worse than a mere drug traffic..."

"Let's just hope it was the only one... I don't want to meet any others like that !"

As if to respond to her expectations, a whining similar to that of the zombie came to their ears, from further in the corridor. But as they focused to the sound, it was not one, but two, three, four, several whinings that could be heard from all directions. And no matter where they looked, they could always perceive a shadowy figure, far away, staggering in their direction. There could be dozens of zombie-like creatures in this basement. They were in the dark, and they were surrounded.

"You said you were in a religious school ?" Snake asked.

"Yeah..."

"Then I hope you didn't forget your prayers..."


	22. Dark Whiners

"Stop," Veruca said. "I think I saw something..."

She pointed her pen light towards one of the intersections. Although the light was ridiculously small, it reflected rather well on the white walls and allowed them to see a few meters further. They couldn't distinguish it clearly, but there was a mass lying on the floor, about ten meters ahead.

"What's this ?"

"I dunno... we should go and see that."

"You sure it's safe ?"

"It's not moving, Veruca. I don't think it could be..."

"Maybe it's just sleeping."

"Come on, it doesn't even look like it's alive. Okay, I got the blade, anyway. You just follow me with the light."

On they were, walking precautiously towards the inanimated frame. As they progressed, more details came to their eyes: it looked human in size and in shape. Violet ? Augustus ? James ? No, Charlie didn't recognize any of his friends. Then who was it ? It looked of gray complexion, and a revolting smell of burnt rubber was emanating from it. A burnt corpse ? They both grew pale at this macabre idea. What would a burnt corpse be doing in this place, anyway ?

Charlie stepped on a small, soft object. Veruca pointed her light down, and instantly they stepped back with a gasp: they had recognized one of the creatures from the Chocolate Room. An Oompa Loompa. It was lying in a poodle of its own blood, its tiny hands still clenching a small wooden spear, it's abdomen literally ripped and torn apart by something of an unspeakable strength and savagery. Veruca almost fainted at this gruesome scene. Charlie felt nauseous, but he had nothing to drop out anymore. He took a deep breath instead, but that smell of burning tire didn't make things better.

"My God," Veruca whispered, appalled. "What could've done this ?"

Charlie suddenly remembered the cracking whip of the Snake, in the Nut-Sorting Room.

"Could it be Snake ? With his..."

She shook her head negatively. "It's not a whip... looks more like... claws. Look, there are others."

She pointed her light a few centimeters away and highlighted another disemboweled Oompa Loompa body, this one clenching a bow. Then another one. And another one. All in all, that was nearly a whole army of these little men that lay on the floor, mutilated to death. And in the middle of that cemetary lay the larger, human-sized dead body they had seen earlier.

"Who's that ?" Veruca asked.

Charlie reluctantly bent down before the body and examined it. The girl kept herself at a respectable distance. After all, she didn't need to go so close, she saw very well from here the body with its dull grey skin, hairless head and multiple wounds letting out a dark, oil-like blood. Some of these wounds even had small arrows or spears still in them. No doubt there had been a fiery battle between the Oompa Loompas and this thing, and it had left no survivors.

"It's not anyone we know," Charlie said. "It's weird, this thing is... it doesn't have hair, its eyes are empty... and look."

With a grimace of disgust, he took a pinch of the skin to test its hardness. It was flabby and loose.

"Where is that _thing_ from ?"

"You know what it makes me think about, actually ?" he said. "This looks like you... I mean, the way you looked in my dream."

She let out a giggle, actually more nervous than amused. "Is that supposed to be a compliment ?"

"Sorry, but that's just how I see it."

"So that," she concluded, regaining her serious, "that thing is... a _zombie _?"

A clobbering sound on the floor right behind her gave her the start of her life, and almost a heart attack. The sudden fright made her lose the use of her legs and she fell on her butt as she pointed her light in the direction of the noise. Charlie was quick to react by brandishing his blade for protection... but then, they froze. They didn't actually know what to do with the Oompa Loompa that was standing before them, still alive but in a very bad condition. His right leg was broken and the flesh scratched with violence, and he was leaning on his spear to stay up. He had lost his left arm, and the fresh wound was bleeding profusely. Puzzled, the kids watched him try to lean on his valuable leg and raise his spear in an offensive manner... before he fell down again.

"Shit..."

The children were confused. Was this an English word they had heard from the dwarf ?

"Come here, children," he said, definitely in English and even with an acceptable accent, "do not be afraid."

They felt no threat in his words. He was dying slowly, anyway. He was harmless. They gingerly approached and knelt down beside him.

"Good," he whispered weakly, and each of his words requested a lot of efforts, "I do not want to fight. We are all dead, anyway."

"Who's that dead body over here ?" Veruca asked abruptly.

"Please, listen to me. One of you, Mike Teavee, did kill a few of us. We were out... for revenge. We were out to kill you all. We set up our army, but we did not foresee what happened next. For you see, this place is much more than a candy factory. Experiments are being held here."

"Experiments ?" Charlie was captivated.

"There is a secret place, deep below, where Willy Wonka's dark deeds take shape. A place solely known as Basement 13."

"What kind of experiments ?"

"A lot of different ones. Sometimes, it is not even for the sake of experimentation, it is only for a sadistic delight... there is no limit to his cruelty, children, sometimes I even wonder why we decided to join him. Of course, we have... cannibalistic tendencies, but at least, we do not roam around the world, kidnapping children."

"What do you mean ? We are not the only ones here ?"

He had an soft, ironic laugh. "Sure not. Your unfortunate companions are still here, somewhere. You have one of them right here."

Charlie looked at the grey corpse.

"These things are children ?"

The Oompa Loompa nodded gravely. "Those who turned out this way were confined in a safe place never to be heard of again. Until now. Somebody opened a Pandora box, and now we are facing the consequences of our misdeeds. They have lost all signs of humanity, you know. They are driven solely by their most primitive instincts. We are saints in comparison."

"But what did he do to them ?" Charlie bursted out. "And what will he do to us ?"

"I cannot tell... everything. You are very special children. He held out his contest... for you. And without you, everything he has in mind... is nothing. You can defeat him. By leaving this place alive. And I will help you. The alternate generator has only re-activated the minimum needed to keep the Factory alive. But a few things can be re-activated manually. Go to your left, then right. You will find a blue box, against a wall. It is the emergency control panel. The code to activate it is 0243. Once you have done this... there is an old office, right ahead, near the third intersection. This is the best place to get a way out. But be careful, these monsters can be anywhere, now. And the King... our King is screaming for vengeance, and where I failed, he will not."

"Why are you helping us ?" Veruca asked, on the edge of tears.

"Even the most savage of peoples has its sacred customs. There is nothing worse for an Oompa Loompa than to die with hatred in his heart. I am going to die, children. There is nothing to be afraid of, death is a natural part of life. But if I am to die, then I want to do so... in peace of mind."

He stopped, and stared in the blank.

"It's over," Charlie whispered with a glimpse of sadness in his voice. "Come on, Veruca, we must go."

"Thank you, little man," she whispered softly, as she was about to stand up.

"Wait !" the Oompa Loompa held out his available arm, and the girl quickly took his hand. His breath was growing weaker and weaker. "Some of them crawl... on... the... walls."

There was no last sigh. He had let out his final breath in this word, and now, it was definitely over. Respectfully, Veruca put his hand on his chest, and with two fingers, she shut his eyes.

"What did he mean ?" Charlie asked.

She looked at him, with her eyes red and drowned in tears. She had been greatly shaken by this encounter, even though she, just like everyone else, was freaked out by the Oompa Loompas, at the beginning. But you see people differently when they're dying.

"There's nothing to be saved here," she said. "Nothing. It's all about fear, misery and death, wrapped in a bright candy paper. Those who are good only deserve pain and loneliness, left bleeding alone in a dark hallway. What in the world could have created a monster like Willy Wonka ?"

Charlie had no answer to give her. That was strange, he thought. A few hours earlier, she was acting with the determination of a big sister, eager to comfort her companions, and now, the roles were totally reversed. It's not that Charlie was completely insensitive, but somehow, he felt different from her, he felt more... detached, about what was happening.

"I wanna go home," she whined.

_Home_. That was it. The greatest difference between the two. She had been raised in a comfy environment where all her needs were immediately fulfilled, an environment where pain and sorrow did not exist. He was used, since his very young age, to be looked down and despised by the rest of the world, alone and rejected for he was a _tramp_. He knew about the ugly side of life, and she didn't.

"We must go," he repeated. "Let us go home."

Without a word she followed him, and they took the left path, as advised by their new friend. But still, that was bothering him... _they crawl on the walls_... what did he mean by that ?

----------

Violet held her breath. About a dozen pairs of grey legs were patrolling around the table she was hidden under. She couldn't see their ugly faces, but she could hear their chilling whinings. They were looking for her. She hugged her gun tight, ready to use it if needed - she hoped she would never need to - and waited, trying to remain as silent as possible. Furious cries and laser blasts were coming from outside, in the hallway. Good thing, the girl thought, it meant James was still alive. They got separated when, taking the wrong path in an intersection, they had been literally flooded under a wave of those monsters. Oh yes, the zombies were more than one, they were countless. The moment when she had been overflowed by them had only lasted a few seconds, but was terrible. Terrible, to struggle among that crowd of faceless dead meat, rotting, stinking, crying in the dark, only driven by spasms and a furious irrational instinct that made them grab, slap, scratch everything that was at range, at random, like a pack of rabid dogs. She got scratched multiple times, and her blue forehead, cheeks and arms were almost turning red with her blood. She even got bitten on the leg. Finally, she had made it out and arrived in that room, a filthy unmaintained place that looked like a kitchen, and rushed to hide under the long central table. She had lost Snake in the melee, and now she was alone, hurt, bleeding and terrified. For the zombies that had followed her knew she was here, and her only defense against them was that rifle she was totally unexperienced with.

The decaying legs kept patrolling around, without looking the least fed up with this chase. Maybe they even knew she was under the table, and were only waiting for her to come out, knowing that she had no other escape ? No, that was taking the paranoia much too far for her own good. But the situation was this: she was trapped. And worse, the sounds of the battle outside seemed to be going away. So she was on her own, and either she decided to shoot or she would end up a sandwich. Where would they begin if they ate her alive ? In movies, they almost always attack the throat first. Or they pin their victim down, and open the belly to extract the guts. She hoped they would get her throat, for at least she wouldn't suffer too much. She could hardly conceive more atrocious a death than having her belly cut open and her guts ripped apart. But that wouldn't happen, no, that wouldn't happen... was it her heart beating that she heard ? There was such a deadly silence now, and the zombies had stopped walking ! She was positive they had heard her heart. She put her finger on the trigger. They could attack at any...

"Anyone hear me ?"

She let out a yell in surprise when Mike's voice came unexpectedly from the ceiling.

"Mike ?"

Right after she said that, she put a hand on her mouth, realizing her mistake a moment too late. For this time, they must have heard her ! She braced herself and wondered in a state of near panic where the attack would first come from. She looked on her left... she looked on her right... on her left again... and her eyes met directly the blank stare of a zombie. With a scream half-way between the distressed yell and the warcry, she pulled the trigger and set the monster's head on fire. This didn't stop it, and didn't stop her either: overwhelmed by her own adrenaline, she went berserk, like a fighting plane set on auto-pilot, and began to shoot everything around her, the pipes on the wall that exploded, the furniture that went burning, the legs of the monsters who fell down and crawled to their furious blue opponent, ignoring the grilling of their own flesh under the laser storm. Soon, what used to be a kitchen became the scenery of a macabre ballet of charred bodies evolving in a world of deadly rainbow beams that turned everything they touched into a burning stake, soon drowning the room in a suffocating black haze.

She stopped shooting when breathing became almost as hard as if she were trying to sniff cement. She barely saw anything through the smoke, and the air was making her eyes itchy and teary, accompanied with a mild sensation of burning on her skin. She crawled out of the table, coughing her lungs off, and all around her it was nothing but flames and cremating body that had lost all their aggressivity and were reduced to producing pathetic, inhuman cries. Had she done all of that by herself ? She was in shock. She hurried out of the kitchen and went back to the corridor. The sounds of the battle were approaching again, but for now, her immediate surroundings were empty of all presence. She leant against a wall, and rested her head between her knees. She felt bad, terribly bad, about the monstrosity she had just committed. She had killed. It didn't matter if these weren't totally human, or if she did that in order to survive. She had killed a living being. Now, she felt nothing would be the same anymore. Would she end up like...

He emerged from an intersection as abruptly as an imp from its box, thrown against the wall before he fell down.

"Snake !"

She ran to him, as he was rolling furiously on the floor, actually struggling against a zombie that was clutched at his neck. And the zombie was winning. Without slowing down, she prepared her strike, took a run-up, and performed a superb side kick that made the monster lose its grip. It got up, facing its new opponent.

_Come on, girl, _she thought, _you're super-flexible, so focus on kicks and it will be piece of cake._

It rushed. She let out her eagle-like scream and jumped forward, knocking it down with a butterfly kick - which she had never, ever managed to do before. She could at least thank Willy Wonka for that: the torturous squeezing session she had undergone had developed her kicking skills by the hundreds. The grey child was on the floor, but she wasn't done yet.

She kicked it in the face.

She had to make sure it wouldn't get up.

She kicked it in the face again.

It was bleeding, and producing a serie of short squeals that sounded like sobbing. This didn't make her stop, she kicked it again, and again. It was not a child zombie she was beating up, now, to her eyes it was the chocolatier himself who was crying under her feet, dominated, and this pleased her in a wild manner.

"Take this ! And this ! And this ! Die, freak !" she yelled, out of her mind. "Die, you sick, perverted monster ! It's not so funny, now, is it ? Creep ! Child-killer !"

She then felt a cold, leather-clad arm winding around her waist, and Snake tried to bring her away. She kept kicking in the air and screaming in the wild.

"Calm down !" he shouted. "It's over ! It's over !"

She stopped screaming, and looked at the body, trying to regulate her breath and chill herself out. Its skull was cracked, and it was barely moving by convulsion. It was not Willy Wonka, it was merely one of the grey children, and she realized with horror that she had cruelly beaten it to its death.

"Oh, God," she murmured, "what did I do ?"

"If you ain't had enough," he replied sarcastically, "there are plenty others here !"

He accompanied his sentence with a move of the arm indicating the part of the corridor he had come from. About twenty other zombies were coming in their direction, quite slowly, the acid glow in their chest reflecting against the concrete walls, giving a rather clear view of the corridor bathed in green light, and of course in their tear-jerking laments. Violet held out her gun, though they didn't look threatening, right now. That was the worst with them: when they were too far to attack, they didn't look like zombies, but like poor, desperate mutilated little creatures that you wanted to pity and help. Wisdom would have made you shoot on sight. Only no-one could have the heart hard enough to shoot them, not by the way they looked. Only children. Innocent. The two kids couldn't but step back. James held out his whip.

"Where's your gun ?" she asked.

"Lost it in another section."

"What are we gonna do ?" It was more a question she was asking to herself. She was completely disoriented and anguished. And he didn't feel any better. If there weren't his instinct and his experience of danger, he would have broken down just like her.

"I don't want to kill them," he whispered, "but if we have no choice..."

"How could it go so wrong ? Okay, we got nearly killed by a whole buncha robots, but this... it's even worse, it's... maybe we didn't survive the elevator crash. We're in Hell, now, and these are damned souls. They're crying because they're suffering, and soon it will be our turn..."

"Shut up ! Please, shut up and keep your voodoo mumbo-jumbo for yourself. If we were in Hell, it would be a much better place than here."

He looked up, and thanks to the green light, he saw a whole network of pipes and big cables on the ceiling.

"Great," he said, "you can just jump on me to reach the cables up there. Then, you'll help me up. They cannot reach you if we're on the ceiling."

"Okay, but where will we go, then ?"

"Earlier, I saw a hatch, it's in that direction, past them. I'm pretty sure they can't open a hatch. We will be safe. Stand behind me, and when I say go, you mount, okay ?"

"Kay."

She found a cut-off cable on her rifle that was long enough, and used it to tie the gun on her back, thus freeing her hands. He moved forward, slowly, swinging his whip in front of him. He was walking to the zombies, but his weapon didn't impress them, and they didn't slow down. He kept walking, and the light became brighter as he approached. He was observing them, but they weren't. They looked absent. They were almost at whip range, now.

"Go !"

At the signal, she quickly put her hands on his shoulders and pulled herself up, put her feet on his shoulders, and jumped. Her hands grabbed a solid pipe on the ceiling, and she pulled herself up again to roll her legs around that pipe, making her body parallel with the floor. This way, she had not a limb dangling for the monsters to grab. Below, she heard the crack of the whip, followed by a high-pitched yell from one of the children. Their screams were pure torture for the ears.

"Hurry !" he shouted.

She looked below. The monsters were nearly on him ! She reached down her hand, and he whipped another monster that was too close, ripping off its legs in a burst of black blood that made the girl shut her eyes in disgust, without mentioning its cries that made her teeth gnash. When Snake considered he had sufficient space, he jumped and reached out, but missed her hand !

"Lower !" he said.

In the urge, the poor girl outstretched her arm to its max. She hated this position, imagine if a zombie grabbed her arm and brought her down ? Another crack and an unbearable cry could be heard as he disposed of another monster, and finally, he jumped again, and this time grabbed her hand. She gasped in pain as his weight added to the pressure on her already outstretched arm. She whose arms were already sore from her gun's recoil really didn't need that !

"Climb up quick !" she groaned. "I'm not gonna hold long !"

"I'm stuck !"

Actually, a monster had grabbed his whip in the air, pulling on it to prevent him from mounting.

"Hurry up, Jim, or I'm gonna drop !"

"I'm coming, just hold on !"

He began to struggle against the monster, pulling even more on her arm. She bit her tongue not to scream. Seriously, she understood the situation, but it was as painful as if he were trying to strain her arm off.

_Impulse._

He eventually managed to pull his whip towards him strongly enough to bring is opponent at range for a violent kick in the face, which made it lose grip, but another zombie immediately caught his leg. There was another crack, this one very close to Violet's ears, as she saw the leather tail winding up around the pipe, in front of her. Finally, after a tiresome effort and lots of kicks, the two kids managed to secure themselves out of the zombies' reach, and they proceeded to use the pipes and cables to crawl on the ceiling like spiders.

"Is it far ?" she asked.

"Not much."

They were virtually safe here, but she didn't quite like to feel like a steak hanging over a dog pit. She didn't look down, but they sounded highly disappointed. She was positive at least one or two of them tried to jump to catch her. The good point was that the green glow was lightly fading, indicating that they were moving away from the threat.

"It's here," he said after a few last meters. "Get down."

With grace, they jumped out and came back on the floor. The hatch was just in front. It bore no indication whatsoever. Immediately, the Snake went to turn it open while Violet turned back and took her laser to aim at the gleaming kids, far away. Not that far, actually ! She thought they had done a much more important distance on the ceiling than a mere ten meters !

"Err, Jim, you'd better hurry ! They're quite close !"

"It looks like it's stuck. Try to contain them, if they get too close, don't hesitate !"

Her hands, still holding the rifle, were shaking. She had enough of this. She couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't even stand watching them in their white eyes. They were six meters from them.

"Is that coming ? They're closer !"

"Hold on a sec !"

Five meters.

"Shit, will you open it !"

"Think I'm about to..."

Four meters.

Three meters.

"HURRYYY !!"

A resounding metal clank cut off her scream.

"There !" he called.

And without waiting, she turned round and rushed through the now open hatch, a second before the zombies were on her. James shut the door behind. Immediately, angry knocks could be heard from the other side, but they couldn't break through the thick layer of metal, and he doubted they could manipulate the handle. They were safe, no matter where they were. James rested his head on the hatch, and let out a heavy sigh. Though he didn't produce a single drop of sweat, he was totally worn out. Shitty mission !

----------

That creepy crawling noise happened again. Veruca stopped. Charlie was about to ask what was happening, but with a quick motion of the hand, she ordered him to stay silent. The noise came from behind her. She had a chill when it came closer... she turned round abruptly and pointed her light at... nothing. The corridor was empty. Even the ceiling, as she watched, had nothing. They had followed the Oompa Loompa's direction and were now in another section from the bloodbath. Thank God, they didn't have to withstand the sight of all those slaughtered bodies anymore. But since they went on their own, she had had that constant feeling of being followed, of being watched... only to find nothing every time she checked.

"I don't feel safe, here..."

"No-one does, Veruca. Don't worry, we're almost there, according to the indications we have."

"Unless he only wanted to screw us one last time..."

"Come on, you heard him, he sounded honest. I don't believe people use their last seconds to be mean. No matter who they are."

"I think so too, but I can't help doubting everything. This place, you know, it makes me... do you know what paranoid stress response means ?"

"Not exactly..."

"Oh, yes, of course. I'm sorry, I forgot you've just entered junior high."

"It's my first year."

"How is it ? I remember my first year was horrible. It's a private school, you know, and the program's very tough, I had to study classic literature, French, latin, by the end of the second year we already had courses of psychology... and worse, my parents employed private teachers to study after school. I thought I was going nuts !"

"Well, at the beginning of the year, everyone laughed at me because I was the poorest of the school. I even got baptized. You know, head in the toilet bowl..."

"Oh..." she suddenly felt ridiculous, talking about the miserable life of a spoiled brat when he was not even rich enough to buy a new sweater. "I'm sorry..."

"Nevermind."

He said this without bitterness. She was impressed at his ability to take everything with kindness. He was rich, in his own way. She liked him even more. And she was glad she could talk about something else for a while, though that feeling of something following her was still there.

"Hey, Veruca, could you point your light out there ?"

She followed his direction, and her light discovered a small blue box, on a wall. They smiled.

"That's it ! We found it, we just have to turn this up !"

"I don't know," she said. "We'll be very vulnerable when we focus on this. Something could easily take us by surprise while we're..."

"You saw it yourself, there's nothing behind us ! Okay, you go on ahead, and I cover you."

He held out his blade with confidence.

"Okay," she said. "Just be careful."

And on these words, she walked to the box while he was standing behind, looking around for any possible threat. There was none. She opened the box to discover a small control panel with a screen, kind of like a cash machine. It was not activated, but there was a yellow lever on a side. She pulled it up. Instantly, there came a soft purring, and the screen lit up, displaying a message:

_Emergency System Ready. Please Enter Activation Code._

She considered the keyboard and typed: _0243_. Then, she pressed a green button she guessed was the _Confirmation _button.

_Emergency System Activated._

The screen then displayed a list of the processes that were being activated, but she didn't look at it. For there was light ! The hallway now appeared in a dim white light that was still far from its original brightness, but already bright enough to make a torchlight useless. Bright enough to feel comforted and confident. She could see the white walls clearly, she could see the light blue floor, she could see ! She turned to Charlie, smiling:

"It works ! Now, we..."

She stopped neatly. Her companion looked at her, worried. Her mouth was opened, and her eyes, wide with terror, were staring at the ceiling above his head. She could see, he thought, and she didn't like what she saw. He looked up, slowly... the thing was grinning at him.

"Crap !"

Sharp teeth, red eyes, the same grey complexion as the zombie but with a face much more expressive, distorted by a ferocious, predatory grimace. That's all the boy could see before the monster dropped from the ceiling and pinned him down like a wrestler, making him lose his blade under the shock. He thought he heard Veruca screaming, but he couldn't care less at this moment, for his main focus was to prevent his aggressor from wrapping its claw-like fingers around his neck. Which was of course a tough work, this creature was extremely strong ! It looked vaguely similar to the zombie, for its skin was the same color and it also had a human shape, but the similarities stopped here. This thing didn't look like it was rotting or decaying, on the contrary its muscles were firm and its body hard as rock while flexible as an elastic. It had claws and sharp teeth, and its evil grin was extending from one ear to the other, letting out a greenish, drooling serpentine tongue. No, that thing was different. It was a predator, a real predator. In comparison, the other zombie - which had decimated an army of Oompa Loompas on its own - looked as inoffensive as a snail.

The monster suddenly lost its grip and howled like a swine being stabbed. The sawblade was dug in its back. Working on reflex, Charlie didn't waste a second to kick it away from him. Veruca took the blade off, held it out high like a lumberjack, and with a hearty scream, she struck again, this time hitting the back of its skull. It lay down, groaning and convulsing. Its head was bleeding profusely. Black blood. That was disgusting, it looked like it was bleeding oil !

"That was the thing following us !" Charlie said. "This ain't no zombie. What's that abomination ?"

"I don't know," she replied as she took the blade off the body, "but we'd better go before others come."

"What, you think there's others like it ?"

She didn't need to answer to that, Charlie just had to listen to the soft brushing of bodies against the walls and the regular clinking of claws against metal. There were several of these at their level. Now he understood what the Oompa Loompa meant by _they crawl on the walls_.

"Okay, where are we going ?"

"The Oompa Loompa said that after we've re-activated the... thing, we've got to come back to him and take the other way. By the way, take the blade back. I don't feel good with it."

They then ran back to the intersection, where the dead bodies were still there, untouched. They hadn't met any other monster. So far, it was going on well.

"Now ?" he asked.

"Now we go there... watch out !"

Fortunately he was fast on this one, and he had the good reflex to hold the sawblade in front of him as a shield. The thick green mucus spat out by the monster crawling on the ceiling over them hit the metal, spreading on it like a water bomb, except it had the slimy, sticky consistence of glue. The next second, it was the monster itself that jumped on the shield, and for the second time Charlie got pinned down by one of those humanoid chameleons. But this time, he had a firm hold on the blade to protect himself.

"Charlie !"

"Run, Veruca, run ! I'll take care of..."

His phrase ended in unintelligible screams as he was wrestling with difficulty. Reluctantly, the girl obeyed and ran in the next corridor like a bat out of Hell. She only made a few meters when she felt her feet being suddenly nailed to the ground and she lost balance and fell down. She couldn't move her legs. She looked at her feet. The green slime ! There was a puddle of this monsters' substance on the floor, and she had walked on it, sticking her feet down like glue. She vainly tried to draw her legs away, pulling with all her strength, but whatever that substance was made of, it was stronger than any kind of glue and it wouldn't yield. When spiders had webs, chameleon-like zombies had that thing. And now that she was caught, they would surely come to eat their prey ! She could already hear something running to her... but it was Charlie. Thank God, he had gotten away with his foe ! He jumped over the puddle and looked at her:

"Get up, quick !"

"Can't ! I'm stuck !"

"Then take off your shoes !"

"What ? No, I'll..."

"Really, we don't have any time to waste, others can come at any moment !"

Without letting her react, he grabbed her hand and literally pulled her out of her slippers. Then, still holding her hand, he dashed like mad. The floor was cold under her bare feet, making the running very unpleasant, but it was a matter of life and death. And she had never seen him so nervous. They took a bend, and they stopped still.

"Uh-oh," they whispered when they saw what was waiting in front of them: three "chameleons", and these ones looked particularily enraged.

"Okay," he said, trying to sound confident, "we're gonna..."

What were they going to do ? The three monsters weren't moving, they were just observing, waiting for the right time. Like tigers. What were they going to do to pass them ? He looked round, but saw nothing.

"We've passed the third intersection," he murmured. "There should be a door."

"Look at the left wall, a few meters ahead," she whispered back. "Can you see it ?"

He could. That was not a hatch, from here it only looked like a rectangle drawn on the wall. A white door on a white wall. Almost invisible. It was situated about half-way between them and the monsters.

"Okay, on my signal, we go for the walls."

The two kids began to walk as gingerly as they could towards the door, with the idea that the monsters might not attack if their moves weren't too abrupt. Two of the creatures were each on a wall, gripping on it like reptiles, or spiders. The third one was standing on the floor, with both its feet and hands on the ground, in the half-crouched stance of a gorilla. Or a cat bracing itself to jump on a prey, this image seemed more appropriate. Charlie kept his eyes on this one, he felt it would be the first to attack. But for the moment, they didn't look threatening, they were just observing, without a sound except the hoarse hum of their breathings.

The children tried to control their breaths, but their hearts filled with adrenaline were out of any sort of control. They were only four or five feet away from the door. The creatures were still not moving. If the tension that was in that part of the hallway, now, was converted into physical pressure, it could bend iron. Two feet.

The first monster flexed its muscles. Charlie could distinguish it through its coal skin. It flexed its muscles and prepared to attack.

"Now !"

The creature lept like a cat over the distance separating it from its preys, its mouth wide open and ready to bite the head off the first kid it touched. Fortunately, as soon as it took off, Veruca and Charlie stepped aside and stuck to the wall, letting the monster miss them and crash down pathetically a few feet behind. Everything went extremely fast, too fast for a logical reasoning to happen, and Charlie had the silly reflex to throw his sawblade at the two other monsters, like a frisbee, to at least distract them. Now, they were supposed to run to the door. At least, that was the theory.

"Charlie, help !"

He turned round, and saw Veruca lying on the floor, with the first creature gripped on her ankles, pulling her towards it. He instantly grabbed her hands and pulled on his own side.

"Wait !" she shouted. "No ! Not like that ! Aouch ! You're stretching me out, fuckers !"

There seemed to be no way to make the monster lose its grip, and Veruca's angry screams couldn't help. The two other monsters were approaching too. That's when parts of the ceiling fell off, letting out a whole set of impressive machines, black boxes hanging over their heads, equipped with a sort of tube composed of six smaller tubes linked to each others, and a red laser aim that began searching the floor. Both the monsters and the children stopped to observe these machines, puzzled. Even the one that was holding Veruca released her. Strange, the girl thought, those six tubes displayed in a sort of circle that were all pointing in front, it looked like... barrels ? Oh, no, that was !

"Charlie, get up, quick !"

This time, it was her turn to catch his hand and drag him with haste to the hidden door, which she opened to rush inside. As she locked the door behind her, she could hear the expected thunder bluster of bullets, as noisy as a war movie being watched with the sound turned to max. The shots were quickly followed by the siren screams of the dying monsters, then, nothing. Silence ruled again.

"It's over," she moaned, her forehead resting against the door.

"What were these machines ?" Charlie asked, behind her. "Machine guns ?"

"Gatling guns. I recognized the six barrels, displayed in a circle. It's easy to recognize such a gun, there's one in virtually every crappy action movie... we must have activated them when we turned on the light. Now, it's clear: we will never make it out."

"What makes you say so ?"

She turned round and faced him. Her wet hair was a spectacular mess, and her eyelids were turning red. With her dirty dress and her bandages on the arms and legs, she looked like she was coming straight out of a mental institution. Charlie even had a step back.

"Come on, look at us ! I'm barefoot, bandaged and miserable. And you, you are scratched all over and you've lost your blade ! Oh, yes, we really look like we can fight our way out of here !"

"You can't say that, Veruca ! After all the way we made..."

"Then let's talk about it ! What did we make so far ? First, I get attacked by a gang of obsessive-compulsive squirrels. Then, we get lost in a labyrinth with scary wallpapers. Then, we have drug-induced hallucinations. I don't know what you did exactly, but I got lost in a basement where I risked my life many more times than I could count with all my ten fingers ! Then, the stairway with the barrier of flames. Okay, we survive it to meet a redeeming Oompa Loompa and his zombie friend. Right after, we get ambushed by a pack of monsters that look like the results of a crossbreeding experiment between Spider-Man and a velociraptor, and finally, the cherry on top of our cake, there come from the ceiling enough guns to invade France again ! Can't you see anything wrong with that ?"

She became hysterical as she drew closer to him. He didn't dare to react. "Can't you see anything wrong ? We didn't make five steps without something scary or deadly to fall on us, and it seems to be getting worse ! I'll tell you what I think, Charlie: I think Wonka is just playing with us, and wherever he's hiding, he must be laughing his head off. Because he knows we're only kids and we're entertaining him for a while before he captures us. We're doomed, Charlie ! It's game over !"

He slapped her. Not angrily, not nastily, but he was afraid and found nothing else to do. She stopped still, put a hand on her cheek, looked at him in shock - she wasn't expecting that at all - but said nothing. She was calm, now, and Charlie took this opportunity to speak:

"I know it's hard," he said, holding her shoulders, "I know it seems hopeless. But, even with the few we have, look how far we went ! We spent a whole afternoon in that place, and we're still alive ! I'm sure not everyone else could've made it. We can escape, as long as we believe in ourselves. Besides, we're not alone, our friends are also in the Factory, Violet and James will find a way to rejoin us, Mike, even if he has a lot of problems, is doing his best, and Augustus... well, maybe not Augustus, I don't know... and the Oompa Loompa ! He gave us a direction !"

"Yeah," she groaned, "he led us here, and look around you. Can you see anything useful in that old stuff ? He screwed us, Charlie."

The boy looked around. The room was an abandoned office, which furniture was covered with a thick layer of dust. A desk displaying a mess of papers, shelves displaying a collection of large sheets of blue paper rolled in a cylindrical fashion, other shelves displaying various measure instruments - large wooden rulers, compasses - and a drawing board. It was a plain, brown office, the kind of office your father could have, and it was therefore totally out of context here. How could that plain office be of any help ? That's what Veruca thought, but Charlie didn't agree. When he looked at the furniture, at the items, it reminded him of something he couldn't quite precise yet, but he knew it wasn't just an office and it was meant for a specific purpose. Only when his glance met a maquette of the Factory, like the one he had at home, but much more precise in terms of scale, design, and material used, displayed on a table in a corner, did it come back to his mind. For this maquette was in no way like his, it was the work of a professional. A professional who was supposed to use this room. Now, he knew exactly where they were. He turned to his friend with a satisfied grin:

"No, Veruca, you're wrong. He wanted us to find this room, because it's the key to get out."

She frowned, confused. "What ?"

As he was about to explain, Mike's voice interrupted him, still riddled with interferences:

"Can you hear me ? You're still in Basement 5 ?"

"Yes, Mike."

"Okay, I don't know how long I can hold, so let's make it quick. I see you have turned on the light in your basement. Jim found an emergency box in his basement too, and he'd like to know what code you used."

"0243."

"Thank you. Are you safe here ?"

"Yeah, I think we are... now."

"Okay, I've gotta take care of the others. Good luck."

----------

"It's 0243."

"Thanks," James replied as he typed the code on the control panel, that was on a wall near the hatch, into a blue box similar to the one Veruca used. He confirmed, and a few seconds later, the light came back.

Their new environment was a large square room that looked like a high school lab. Large cupboards, shelves and drawers were against the walls, whereas the middle of the room was occupied by various desks withstanding a terrible amount of notebooks, workstations with high-capacity computers, and boards full of test tubes containing various sorts of liquid - none of which looked healthy at all - next to microscopes, sample analyzers with monochromatic monitors, micro-wave ovens, sinks, Bunsen burners... all the imaginable stuff for biological analyses. On the wall opposite to the hatch were standing a dozen of metallic cylinders that were big enough for a person to be in. But what struck them the most was that, contrary to the rest of this basement, there was no dust, no filth, as if it was still used and maintained. The furniture was made of stainless steel and the floor and walls of white tiles, so that even with the dim light from the ceiling, it reflected on every surface and the room was clear as if there were large windows. And when James saw the large neon bulbs on the ceiling, between even so large ventilation shafts, he felt good that these weren't working at their top capacity. Such large bulbs turned to maximum would sure result in blindness.

"Must be some serious experiments going on, here," he commented.

Outside, the zombies were still knocking at the door, but less and less vigorously. They were giving up. Good thing. Violet bent down over a sink and closed her eyes, as to prevent herself from vomitting. Her face had turned to an extremely pale blue, that looked like everything but a sign of good health.

"Is that the Butterscotch coming out ?"

She shook her head negatively, and remained in this position for a few seconds. Then, feeling the urge had passed, she let out a sigh and stood back up, trembling and sweating as if she had a flu. James immediately led her to a chair and helped her sitting down. She looked very weak. He went to bring her a glass of water.

"I wonder what exactly they're doing here," he said. "Maybe you can tell, Mike..."

"No, I can't !" he sounded unusually angry through the loudspeaker. "Can't you just do anything on your own ? Mighty Mike will not always be behind your ass, you know !"

He didn't answer. That outburst was not expected at all !

"Excuse me," he said after a few seconds. "It's just... well, I'd better tell you now: I messed up. Pretty badly."

"What does it mean ?"

"It means I've lost it ! The system... it began when that mysterious program infiltrated my code. And then, the breakdown. Since we passed on alternative power, I've been progressively losing control. My defenses were paralyzed, you know, and Wonka took this advantage."

"You mean he's taken everything back ?"

"No. Already, most of the systems were working on the main generator and have been disactivated for energy economy. Those remaining... I managed to switch them to manual control before I totally lost them. That's why you and Veruca had to use those emergency boxes to turn on the light. As for the traps, they should be all out of order by now."

"What about... _these_ ?"

"I don't know where they're from, I don't even know what they are. They're not imps, not zombies... the breakdown was caused by the explosion of a large container, spreading toxic wastes all over the generator room. These appeared right after. That's all I can say. I don't have any more control over anything in this facility. I can only gain access to a few informations and communicate, but I don't know how long it will last. This is maybe my last transmission, so listen carefully, and I'll tell you what I know: I've been suspecting for a while the existence of a secret, thirteenth basement. Just before I talked to you, I wanted to check that out, and I stacked a map of the building with the detailled map of the ventilation network. Guess what I found ?"

"The ventilation system goes down way beyond Basement 12, where there's supposed to be nothing ?"

"Exactly. This level that appears on no maps must be Wonka's real hideout. When you get out, tell this to the cops, and whatever happens, do not get anywhere near it yourselves. We don't know what could lie in that place, and if it's supposed to be secret, there must be a reason. Charlie and Veruca are stuck in Basement 5 by now, but Charlie just told me he thinks he has his own way out, so don't worry about them and stick to the plan. Violet, your idea of using the communication passage is good, it's almost entirely disactivated, so you shouldn't have any unpleasant surprise. I can't give you any direction, but there are paper maps in every level. And one last thing: when you're out, please try to find some computer expert, to get me out of there. I think I'm not as great a hacker as I thought, in the end."

"We will."

"Good luck, then. Michael Teavee, last transmission at 05:12 pm, GMT. Over and out."

Silence. This time, it was definitely over. They were on their own.

"You feel better ?" he asked.

She just waved her hand weakly in response. She was in a sort of lethargic state. That was not a hangover as he first thought. She was in shock. He decided that the best way to help her was to leave her alone for a while, and went to explore the shelves and cupboards. The shelves displayed various glass jars containing bizarre red and black substances and bearing the mention _Sample_. Organs ? The idea crossed his mind, but he decided to ignore it. However, there was a smell in the air that he recognized. There was of course the aggressive smell of disinfectant you have in every laboratory, but behind it there was the same unidentified flavor as in the Chocolate Room, and the Juicing Room... he didn't dare to be positive, but he was almost sure of what it was, now. He moved to a cabinet and opened the steel door. Nothing exceptional inside: steel basins, sterile compresses, a collection of scalpels, scissors and other usual instruments, disinfectant, alcohol... there was also a small mirror, and when he looked at it, he noticed ten nasty dark marks on his neck, that looked like cigarette burns. That was... the bruises caused by the monster that tried to choke him. Damn, they were really _that _strong ! He took some compresses and alcohol to clean it, when he remembered that Violet was much more wounded than he was. He then decided to bring these to her. She thanked him in a murmur as she took a wet rag and began to clean her wounds, grimacing in mild pain as the alcohol touched her sensitive scratches.

"You... you fought well," he said.

She didn't answer. For a moment, they remained in an awkward silence.

"Can I ask you a question ?" she finally said.

"Sure. Go ahead."

"It's a very important question, and..." she paused, took a deep breath, and let it out: "How does it feel like to kill someone ?"

"What do you mean ?"

"I mean... these things outside, whatever they are... they look human to me. But... they were about to find me, and I had to defend myself. So I took my gun and shot. I killed living beings and watched them die slowly... by my fault. It's haunting me, now. When I think back about it, I wanna puke..."

"There's no remorse to have, Violet. You did only defend yourself."

"But I loved it !" she burst out. "I was happy when I saw them die, I wanted to scream out: _You had it coming ! _And then, the one I beat up. I enjoyed it, because I imagined I was beating Willy Wonka, and that's what I want ! I want to kill Wonka, I want to see him dead for trying to kill us, and for those horrible things he must have done to the zombies. And I... I'm afraid of becoming a monster. I'm afraid of becoming like you."

"You're not a monster, you're a human."

"What's that supposed to mean ?"

"Humans are not pure and perfect. They're animals in the first place. This feeling of euphory you experienced is a normal feeling, an instinctive response. Every animal feels excited after winning a fight and killing a threat. However, only humans can experience another feeling, the one you have right now."

"Remorse ?"

"Exactly."

"So... it is natural to feel good when you kill something that's threatening you... but it is also natural to have remorse right after ?"

"That is the perception of right and wrong, of good and evil. This is what differentiates you from other predators. Those who don't feel any remorse or guilt are real monsters... like Willy Wonka."

"And what about you ? Do you always enjoy killing, or do you feel remorseful ?"

"It's different. I'm a human, I do know the difference between good and evil... but I am also a snake, and snakes do not feel any remorse. I never really enjoyed killing, but the Snake inside me has a bloodlust. It's pushing me to kill and kill again. At the beginning, I tried to contain it by preying only on the guilty, like a vigilante, only to discover that I was worse than those I was fighting. As time passed, I then grew to become more and more indifferent. I know I'm still human, but the Snake is taking over. And the voice in my head that tells me it is wrong to kill keeps getting weaker and weaker."

She didn't answer. What could you answer to this ?

"But don't worry," he concluded, "as I said, you're still fully human. You'll never end up like me."

"What will you do when everything's over ?"

"I'll have a rest, maybe a week or two. And then, I'll search for a new employer."

"So it will never stop ?"

"Never."

The silence lasted a few seconds, before she spoke out, coming back to a rather neutral mood: "Mike said we should search for a paper map, didn't he ? I bet there's one in that room, let's search it."

He smiled at her as she got up. He was glad he had managed to cheer her up. And, he usually didn't like to talk about himself. Outside, the knocking had definitely stopped.


	23. Up And Out

"I don't get it," Veruca said, "what are you hoping to find in that old dusty room ?"

In front of her, Charlie seemed to be in a sort of trance, searching nervously among the piles of papers on the desk and the shelves. He seemed to know what he was doing, but to Veruca it was a complete mystery. Anyway, she sincerely hoped he would find what he was looking for, whatever it was, because Mike had cut out all transmissions and they were now left on their own. The boy was so busy he didn't even answer.

"Charlie ?"

"Yeah, wait a minute."

"Charlie !"

"I'm busy !"

"You could at least tell me what's going on !"

He sighed. "Okay, then look around you and tell me what you see."

"A dusty room."

"Come on ! The instruments ? The maquette ? It doesn't ring a bell ? Veruca, this dusty room's an architect's office !"

"What ? What's the use of an architect's office in that place ?"

"They might have built it as a place to supervise the construction and abandoned it when the Factory was finished. Normally, we should be able to find the complete paper plans of all the facility in this room. This is our key out !"

"How can you be so sure ?"

"My Grandpa George used to be an architect. That was long ago, he worked at Bucket & Kersey's office. I wasn't born yet, but things were going well for the family at this time. And then, the office went bankrupt when Grandpa George's associate turned crazy - something about murders, I heard - and disappeared. In the meantime, Grandpa Jo lost his job, and that's why we're so poor today."

"Where was your Grandpa Jo working ?"

"Uh... here. He was working for Willy Wonka."

She had a sudden start. "What ?"

"But he never knew ! He never knew about anything here. Things were going on well at that time, he told me it was almost a normal candy factory. And one day, all the employees got fired for no reason."

"Maybe... maybe it's because one of them got too close to Wonka's secret... _experiments_."

"Perhaps... here, found it."

Under his companion's amazed look, he produced a dozen of large blue sheets of paper.

"That's it ! All the plans are here !"

She came closer and they both began to examine the papers. That was extremely detailed, it included the water network, elevator pits, cables, ventilation, for all the thirteen basements.

"Wait !" she said. "Have you noticed ? There are thirteen basements !"

He took a paper showing a detailled map of Basement 13.

"Mike was right, then. What's this mysterious basement all about ? _Surgery... meat storage... exp. lab 1, exp. lab 2, spec. an. facility... storage cells, obs. cells..._"

He had a chill. That place was creepy, even on the paper. Most of the rooms mentioned bore incomprehensible abbreviations, and those Charlie understood had a weird feeling in them. Surgery ? Meat storage ? Those things had nothing to do in a candy factory. Unless... he remembered his conversation with the dying Oompa Loompa. Unless these were used for performing experiments. And the cells, what were they supposed to contain ? Children ? He remembered the Oompa Loompa mentioning other children. Perhaps that was the place where they were held captive. But in this case, what kind of "meat" was supposed to be in the meat storage ?

"Look at that, Charlie."

Veruca abruptly put another paper before his eyes, interrupting his examination of the hellish basement.

"What's this ?"

"This map shows out all the paths and sections that are not included in the main installation and are not to be used by unauthorized people. It includes maintenance areas, secret passages, emergency tunnels, everything to make a shortcut."

He whistled. "Good job !"

The map first looked kind of mazy, but he quickly found a landmark by observing the color code upon which it was drawn. This way, the emergency ways were drawn in red, everything that had to do with the maintenance was drawn in yellow, and the secret passages were drawn in black. Of course, secret passages weren't supposed to be indicated on a normal map, except that this one was a construction plan, and therefore had to give out all the details. The Oompa Loompa had really been great sending them here. He couldn't figure out how much they owed him. When everything is over, they should try to get his body, and perhaps bury him...

"So, did you find something ?"

"Oh, yes, look. As you see, there are three different entrances to Basement 13. One is a secret hatch at the bottom of the elevator pit, in the great communication passage. Another one is a stairway in Basement 12, must be some kind of emergency exit. The last one is a special tunnel that is totally inaccessible except from its entrance point, in the highest room of the residence - the main building that is over the ground level."

"Who cares ? We're not gonna visit that spooky basement, anyway ! Search for a way to Basement 2, that's where Snake and Violet are supposed to rejoin us."

"Okay... here. There's a ventilation shaft at our level that we can follow to go directly to Basement 2. That's cool !"

"Where is that shaft ?"

"In the Fizzy Lifting Drinks Room. Uh-oh, that's not that far, but we have to go back to the hallway."

"To get mashed by the guns ? No way. There must be another road. Wait, what's that ?"

She pointed at a narrow corridor that, on the map, was supposed to be behind the architect's office. Only it bore no color and no indication whatsoever.

"Maybe an old passage that is unused today. Look, it's passing very close to the Drinks Room. If we can take it, we should avoid every danger."

Veruca suddenly grew excited. "Then it's almost like we're already out ! Where is it ?"

Charlie took the map and began walking around the room, thinking:

"Normally... normally... it should be... here !"

He stopped in front of the wall opposite to the door. He gingerly folded the map and put it in his pocket, then knocked on the wall.

"There's echo ! The passage is behind !" he then caressed the surface to check the materials. "Plaster and wood... doesn't look that tough. I guess if we kick it, we might..."

"You'll have to do it alone. I'm barefoot, I could hurt myself."

"That's right, I forgot... you want my shoes ?"

She refused gently. "I can't always rely on the others."

"If you want..." he took a deep breath. "Go !"

With a scream, trying to gather all his meagre strength in his leg, he aimed at the wall and kicked.

----------

The microscope had a post-it note on it. Violet took it and ascertained it was still well stuck. Such notes would usually fall after a few hours. This room had been used very, very recently, then. Perhaps even a few minutes before the gates opened to allow them in, Wonka was here, finishing an experiment to pass the last minutes left before the Tour. The fact that she was standing where Wonka was a few hours earlier gave her a shiver.

"What does mitochondrial mean ?" she asked.

"I don't know," replied the Snake, who was busy searching in the mountains of papers. "Think it has something to do with genetics... I already heard it in a video game... why ?"

"It was written on that microscope: _Mitochondrial analysis. Exponential cell mutation observed. _And it's followed by a load of numbers."

"I don't have a clue. But don't mind that, and search for the map."

She at least had a look at the scope, but to no learn anything. The things that were to be observed just looked like seaweeds or something. She went on to look at something else, but something Snake said made her wonder: genetics ? At her age, all she knew about genetics was what she saw in _Jurassic Park_. But still, could these zombies, in the corridor, have been produced by genetic manipulation ?

"Hey, you're dreaming ?"

She startled. "What ?"

"I found it, it was behind a drawer."

"Okay, so is the exit far away ?"

"Not that much, it's even pretty easy to get there. You just turn left as you're out of the room, then straight ahead. The main problem is..."

"The monsters ?"

"Yep. Have you seen bottles of sulfuric acid, nitric acid, and glycerine in the stuff you were watching ?"

"Well, maybe, I don't know. Why ?"

"With those ingredients, I can produce an explosive."

The boards near her did contain nothing of what he said. On a common agreement, they began to search the cabinets, each on their side, while James was explaining his idea:

"I've noticed these zombies act as a group and have a very primitive logic. So if we can gather them all in one particular place that we will blow up, we could make the corridors safe again."

"And what about the rocket of my rifle ?"

"No, too risky. We don't know what is the exact power of that rocket, and in such a narrow place it could blow us out too. But this lab looks well equipped, I'm sure we'll find..."

He kept talking but Violet wasn't listening: she found herself in front of a wide, white and cold cabinet. A fridge ! This immediately reminded her how hungry she was, having eaten nothing since the chewing-gum incident - alcohol doesn't count. She opened it. She was first slightly disappointed that it contained no actual food, only numerous and various pieces of raw meat covered in cellophane wrappers. She picked up one, a dark red, almost black steak, large and roughly triangular in shape. It was very unpleasantly soft under her fingers.

"What's this ?"

James lifted his head and observed the meat. He said:

"This... that's a liver."

She instantly dropped it and jerked back in disgust. "You mean a human liver ?"

He abandoned his search and came closer to observe it.

"Yes, a human liver. Rather small in size. A child's liver. Did you get that from the fridge ?"

She nodded. He came to the fridge and opened it.

"This is... weird," he murmured in a disgusted fascination. "Livers, kidneys, hearts... there's a whole store of organs in here."

"All humans ?"

"Judging by their size, they might even come from children. All."

"Yuk... that's horrible..." she found herself in the same fascinated state as he was. "Why would he do this ? And who are the children he took that from ?"

"Wait, I haven't told you the worst yet."

"There's worse ?"

"You may not want to know."

"We've reached a point, now, where nothing can surprise me anymore."

"Poor girl, you're far from guessing... okay, hold on: since I entered the Factory, I've been smelling things. A strange smell coming from all the candy we saw, that I could not define, though I was sure I knew what it was, and... I smell it again, here. Coming from this fridge."

She remained silent, but her eyes were wide as saucers.

"What I smelled from the candy of this Factory, was human flesh. Of course, at this point, I can't be strictly positive, but I think... I think some tiny traces of human meat were induced in the candy along with the drug."

Her face instantaneously lost all colors. "You mean in the candy I ate ?" she asked with a high-pitched voice as colorless as her face.

"Well... yeah."

"And in the candy in production ?"

"That's a possibility."

"So... even in the candy I ate before the Tour... all that chocolate I had to eat to get the Golden Ticket contained... human..."

She didn't finish her phrase before she rushed to the nearest sink, and this time she let everything out. The problem was that, as her stomach was almost empty, the only thing that came out was a thin white liquid that felt like acid as it ran up her throat. She felt worse after than before.

"Are you alright ?"

"No. And I won't be, until we're out. This place is made especially not to feel alright. When you think you've hit the bottom, something worse happens. Always... so, the chocolates are filled with drugs _and_ hum... _that_ thing. I guess about every kid in the world has already eaten at least one Wonka bar in his life."

"That means all the kids in the world have been poisoned by these products."

"Is there any danger ?"

"The drugs are in too small quantities to have notable effects other than a long-term addiction. As for the... well, I don't think it has any effect at all."

"That doesn't make sense ! Why, my God, why would he work so hard producing all these rotten candies ? Maybe he likes to imagine kids eating each others, but even if that guy's the sickest of perverts, it doesn't look like..." she paused, and sighed heavily as she rubbed her face with her palms. "I feel like something way bigger than that is taking place, but it's so big we can't see it."

"Maybe this can bring us answers." He held out a notebook he found on a desk. "It looks like it deals with this lab and the experiments."

"What does it say ?"

_Basic Instructions To All Personel: Conformity Analysis Lab, Basement 8._

_Subjects: experiment subjects having undergone mutation._

_Mission: test valuability of subject and conformity to mass produce critera._

_Procedure: entering subjects are stored and experimented on in the laboratory facility code Basement 13. Upon completion of experiments, intact subjects are then disposed of following the usual procedures._

_However, some subjects may have undergone mutations due to experiments with prototype candy. Through examination of bodies and deep analysis of organs and body samples, the purpose of this lab is to determine one out of three possibilities:_

_1. The subject offers a satisfying quality and can join the intact subjects in mass produce._

_2. The subject has developped cancerous anomalies improper to mass produce: keep the body as food._

_3. The subject has mutated beyond levels of conformity and reached too high a toxicity: dispose of it by storing the body in the Container._

He stopped reading. What the kids were feeling now was beyond words. Finally, Violet spat out:

"Children. What he calls subjects... that's children, right ?"

"I'm afraid so... they're kept as guinea pigs in that... Basement 13, and when he's finished, their bodies are pulverized and induced in the chocolate. Or they're fed to the Oompa Loompas, or the Widow, or whatever else, there must be tons of ways to get rid of a body, here."

"Except for those who are stored in the... oh !"

She became weepy. "Oh, no ! No, it can't be, no !"

"What's going on ?"

And she suddenly burst in tears. "Oh my God, no !"

"What's wrong ?"

"Don't you see this ?" she cried out. "The zombies outside ! They're no zombie ! They're the children who have mutated ! Mike talked about a tank that exploded, and they appeared right after. This is the Container, and they were stored in !"

James froze. He was awestruck by this revelation.

"God," she murmured, "they're children, only children... I could be one of these..."

However, a question kept bugging Snake: where would all those children come from ? Cause these were a lot, and if they had all been kidnapped, this would get to be noticed. Unless... the Third World, of course. There was very few, if any security there, and he could have continued his traffic for years without anyone to notice. But this led to the other question: why them ? Why the Golden Ticket contest and the five kids and all ? Maybe he hadn't found what he was looking for in his experiments... maybe... and damn, what were these metal cylinders against the wall ?

He approached them. A dozen cylinders, of roughly human size... after a good examination, he finally found a switch he used. Instantly, the metal cylinders disappeared in the ceiling, revealing a dozen Plexiglas tubes filled with a transparent liquid... and each containing a deformed human body, some still looking close to normal children, some others looking closer to the zombies. They were floating in the liquid, unconscious, perhaps dead already, slowly moving their oddly long, fleshless limbs, and dangling their bald expressionless heads. There was not a breath coming from their chests devastated by tumors. They just looked like oversized plastic dolls that would have been blowtorched to deformity. He turned his head, unable to take no more. He saw Violet who had a trembling hand in front of her face to prevent herself from watching. That was the sickest thing they ever saw in their lives. Poisonings, kidnappings, experiments and manipulations, cannibalism... now, they finally knew what was really going on in the Factory. But they still didn't know why.

----------

The corridor was so dusty it made them cough. Apparently, Charlie and Veruca were the first to use this passage for many years. It was very different from the usual Factory corridors, being very narrow and made of cheap plaster and wood, with electric mine-type lamps on the walls delivering a dim light. It looked more like they were in an unfinished section of a construction field, which it actually was. Those passages were meant to be corridors, but were abandoned at the time of the construction to favor the larger white hallways. Even though it was so narrow that they could almost touch both walls with their shoulders, it was at least a safe place devoid of guns and monsters. Charlie was walking ahead, with his eyes on the map.

"Is it close ?" she asked.

"I think it's... right here."

He stopped and faced one of the walls. He knocked it the same way he did before, and heard echo.

"Right behind !" he declared, and immediately began to kick the wall. First it didn't move, then after four or five effortful hits, it began to yield, and finally dug a hole large enough for them. Behind, there was a metal wall with an opening near the ground, for evacuating air, maybe. Lots of wind was coming from it. Without asking any more questions, the two kids crawled under the wall and arrived in the Fizzy Lifting Drinks Room. Their first word when seeing the place was a resounding: "Wow !"

The room had a high ceiling and was conic in shape, giving them the impression to be at the lowest level of a chimney. Over their heads, at the highest level, there was no opening like in a real chimney, but a large propeller that created all the wind. The walls were of stainless steel and displayed full racks of transparent bottles that looked like lemonade. On the floor, in the middle, there was a wide basin, like a Jacuzzi pod, filled with a very sparkling water that produced an impressive column of bubbles that mounted up to the propeller.

"Is that the Fizzy Lifting Drink that makes all these bubbles ?" Charlie asked.

"Maybe. But what's the use of that drink ? I mean, what can it do ?"

Curious, the boy took a bottle from a rack. It bore no indication. He opened it, and liking the smell, he drank half of it in a row. It tasted like normal, good lemonade. But right after he drank, he felt an acute pressure in his stomach, and he couldn't say a thing before he let out the loudest and longest burp ever.

"Waw !" he exclaimed. "Now, that was a burp ! I feel so light, now, it's as if I weigh nothing..."

"Okay, Charlie, don't be alarmed, but your feet are not touching the floor anymore..."

"What ?"

He bent his head down to look at his feet, but instead his legs followed his head and he performed a splendid moonsault in the air ! Surprised and terrified, he began to swing his arms around desperately, trying to regain a certain balance. He was not standing, he was floating in the air ! Was that how the Drink works ? Fizzy Lifting Drink... yes, that was that ! A drink that lifts you up in the air ! That was a miracle !

"Yiha !"

Screaming like a cow-boy in a rodeo, the young boy performed a somersault followed by a triple loop. Under Veruca's amazed glance, he showed off some stunning flight abilities and was having a great time !

"How do you do that ?"

"I don't know ! That soda is wonderful, I feel like I'm Superman ! Wow !"

With a quick spin, he turned to a rack and grabbed it. There was a shade of concern in his delight.

"However, I can't quite control the ascent. If I let go, I'll just keep going up."

"What, you can't get back down ?"

"No, it's kinda spooky. But I'm sure it's only temporary. You know, his drugs always wear off after a few minutes, so it must be the same. Could you just try to turn off that fan ? I don't wanna become a hamburger."

"Okay, but where are we supposed to get to the shaft ?"

"Well, I guess it's behind the fan. Hey, look, there's another blue box in that corner !"

She looked in the direction he was showing to see the same box as before, trapped between two racks of soda. She hurried there and opened it to find not a control panel, but a big lever with the word _Propeller _carved on it. She pulled it down. For a few seconds, the wind grew weaker and weaker, to finally stop. Over their heads, the fan was still. She came back to her companion who was climbing down the rack to be at her level.

"Now," he said, reaching out an arm as an invitation, "we just have to go, Superman-style."

She giggled like a girl who got invited for a dance for the first time, and huddled comfortably in his arms.

"I won't be too heavy ?"

"I hope not."

The first sensation she had when he let go and began to fly was like falling. It caught her by surprise and she hugged her pilot tighter.

"Not too tight, please," he groaned. "I guess I'll have to start lifting weights if you wanna do that again."

She who always took great care of her weight would have felt insulted if this were from any other than Charlie. But after all, he was smaller than her and not really the muscular type, and it was clear he was doing a great effort keeping her up. She should have drunk some soda too, but the simple idea of consuming another Wonka product was revolting her. Last time she tried, she ended up strapped on a surgical table, after all.

She was now getting used to the sensation of flying, and although it felt weird, it was all fun. They were already half-way to the top, and they were caught in a cloud of bursting bubbles that tickled their eyes. Though it wasn't pleasant, they couldn't help but laugh. Better bubbles than monsters.

They were very close, when the blades of the propeller started to rotate again, very slowly but progressively gaining speed. They were heading right into it !

"Oh, no !"

"We'll get minced !"

The fan was now turning at full speed, and Charlie could try to pedal in the air, turn head over heels and imitate swimming moves, only to no avail. He kept mounting out of control ! He turned and spinned, and the half-emptied bottle of Fizzy Drink fell off his pocket. Veruca reached out and grabbed it in the air.

"Don't move, Charlie !"

"You want us to get killed ?"

"Trust me !"

The blades were centimeters away from their heads. Veruca held the bottle tight, took aim, and threw it on the lever, below, that was automatically mounting back to its original position. She made it ! The bottle went to block the lever that fell down, and again, the wind grew weaker, and by the time their heads reached the blades, they had lost all their power. Tight !

"Nice shot !"

"I learned to use a bow, one Summer."

Trembling with emotion, they passed through the propeller harmless and arrived in the reassuring narrow space of the ventilation shaft. They had passed the hardest ! Now, up to that damn exit !

----------

James frowned and held his breath, highly focused on the glasses of acid in front of him. That was the most delicate part of the operation. He held an eye dropper over the glasses, and slowly, with extreme precautions, he counted the drops of glycerine that fell in the glasses. The proportions had to be extremely precise, or the mixture would blow up at his face. He had done it before, but a part of him always felt nervous during the manipulation. The oily transparent liquid in his glasses looked perfectly inoffensive. No smoke, no smell, no bubbles, nothing. Yet it was a dangerous substance known as nitroglycerine. A single shock, and bang ! A slight overheating, and bang ! He knew some guys who called the compound VB, for Vicious Bastard. Yet, he was happy to have some now. He gingerly took his glasses and ceremoniously put them on the floor, in a semi-circle around the hatch. Okay, the trap was set.

"Okay," he whispered, "now we just have to attract the zombies here, and we blow them away."

"Would you stop calling them zombies ?" said Violet, aggressively. "They're children, don't you forget it."

About ten minutes had passed since they found and read that dreadful paper, and while he was cooking his explosives, she spent these minutes mourning, refusing to say a word. She was devastated.

"I can't go any further," she declared. "It's over my strengths. And don't tell me any crap about the fact that I'm a winner. Because I know that if we go out, we'll have to make our way out of explosives and laser shots, and I can't kill any of them anymore. They could be my classmates !"

"I understand."

"No, you don't. Because you enjoy killing."

"You're injust," he replied flatly. "I've never killed an innocent child, and never will I."

"And you're gonna tell me it's different here, because they're attacking us and we have to defend ourselves ? But is it fair ? They didn't ask for it, is it fair to hurt them even more after what they have passed through ?"

"Yes. It is fair. Think about it, Violet, and put yourself in their shoes. If you were reduced to a zombie-like whining wreck, would you like to remain like that, or would you want to be finished once and for all ? You're right when you say they didn't ask for it, it means they certainly suffer from their situation. They're dead already, Violet, their souls are dead. In reality, we won't kill them, we will liberate them."

She lifted her wet deep blue eyes. "Do you really think what you've just said ?"

"Snakes are cunning, but I'm still human inside. Wait here, I take the gun and I go out. I'll try to bring them here, and we'll liberate them all."

He was already on his way when she called him. He turned back.

"Short and painless ?" she asked.

"As much as I can. I promise."

"Then I'll do it myself."

"You don't have to prove me you're strong."

"It's not a matter of showing off !" she cried. "Sorry. But I'm way over that, now. I really want to do. I feel like... it's strange, I feel like it's something I must do. Please, don't ask."

He sighed. "I don't like that. But fine, I give you five minutes, and not one more second. After, I'll have to come for you."

She produced a weak smile. He liked her better when she smiled.

"I'll be back in less than that." she took her gun. "Get ready, I might come back with some company."

He went to the door and opened it. "I'll keep it open. Now, be careful."

With a last wave good-bye, Violet left the relative safety of the lab and ventured again into the sinister-looking corridor. She immediately had a chill, not at the temperature difference, but at the light difference. As the power was back in this level, there was actually light in the hallway, but it was a bleak grey light way different from the blinding whiteness of the lab. This added to the fact that it was an open space and to the knowledge of what was lurking in this place, made all feeling of security fade away. God she didn't like to walk alone here ! But it was no time to act as a coward. _You're a winner ! _She had a mission to complete for herself, for her companions, and also for all these kids who had been less fortunate than her. It was terrible what James plotted to do to them. But she could search hard, there was no better solution. She pointed out her rifle - an ugly executor, that rifle ! James said it was to liberate them. She tried to think of it this way. Not a gun, but a magic wand, with the power to free the children from their pitiful condition.

She could hear them, whining and staggering aimlessly, further away. She hoped they hadn't gone too far from each others. She had to gather them all if they wanted to k... to liberate them all in a row. And this would not be easy. In her head, she counted thirty seconds. She arrived at a bend and her eyes met a metal blue object on the floor. It was Snake's lost rifle. She picked it up, and tried to hold both the guns in her hands, the way she saw a hundred times on TV. _Ouch, _she thought, _they forget the actual weight of a gun, in movies ! _For two rifles were pretty hard to handle, even for her strong arms. It was not until she lifted her eyes from her arms that she faced one of the mutants, standing a few feet away, observing her in silence. Its greenish gleam irradiated the concrete walls, but she was not afraid. She couldn't be afraid any more, on the contrary, she had pity on him - or her, who knows ?

"Come on," she chanted softly, "don't be afraid. Come with me. We'll find your friends, and then you'll be free. I promise it won't hurt..."

She was sure he didn't understand anything, but she wanted to talk. She couldn't help but feel tears rolling down her cheeks as she was observing him. He approached slowly.

"That's it !" she encouraged as she stepped back, "follow me..."

And the monster attacked. It caught her by surprise when suddenly, it spat out an impressive amount of a green substance right to her. So surprising, actually, that she dove back, yelling, and opened fire. Gladly she had not been touched. The green goo on the floor was smoking lightly, it had to be boiling hot. Acid ? Good Lord, a great chance it didn't hit her ! But the zombies now lay dead, another victim of her. For a moment she felt terrible, forgetting that after all, it was to end up this way. She mentally counted three minutes already. Her time had almost run out. Around her, the moans of the other zombies were getting louder, and the corridors were getting brighter with their green glows. The noise of her guns had attracted them. Good ! Already, they were showing up from every intersection, quite fast. She had gathered them, now she had to bring them to the lab. She shot again, in the air, and cried out before she hurried back in the hallway. The monsters were quick to gather where they heard the noise. She shot again. They turned to look at her, and this time they all saw her. God, she didn't know they were so many ! Possibly thirty, or even forty ! They crawled and staggered in her direction, their instinct leading them straight into the prey without foreseeing anything. She felt really sorry she had to bring them in such a bastard trap. Now, she could see a beam of white light coming from the open door.

"Get ready, Snake !" she cried out. "They're coming !"

Then she shot again, to make sure they would all head in the right direction. She let them approach her, and although she was not afraid of them, getting approached by a pack of starving zombies was not reassuring at all. They were very close, but she kept a safe distance, careful not to have acid thrown at her again. Closer... closer... now !

Arrived just near the door, she suddenly turned round and rushed inside, jumping over the explosive glasses. The monsters were about to follow her in.

"Come here, quick !" Snake called from behind a solid-looking desk, at the other side of the room. She ran to creep behind it with him.

"Look, I got your gun back !"

"Hey, thank you !" he said as he took it. He then popped his head out of the hideout and took aim. The monsters were entering. Embarrassed by their great number, they had gathered in a compact crowd in front of the hatch and were entering slowly. That was perfect.

"When I shoot," he said, "keep your head between your knees, your mouth open, your eyes closed, and your hands over your ears. That's the best way to cope with an explosion."

"Okay."

"Brace yourself... now !"

His laser shot when straight into a glass, and immediately after, a tsunami of fire submerged the room, bringing along broken glass, sharp pieces of metal and other dangerous rubbish in its hellish tempest. Violet thought she had screamed, though the explosion had been so violent that for a moment, she lost all use of her five senses. Then Snake's hand gently tapped her shoulder, and she opened her eyes and stood up. The room was quiet again, but barely recognizable: everything that used to be white, clean and neat was now nothing but scorched, blackened, broken furniture and material, still hot and smoking. The hatch had even flown out of its wall to end into a computer. And of course, the zombies were everywhere, most of them in several parts. The sight was utterly disgusting, but they kept their mouths shut. They knew the first one to open it would vomit. Without a sound they headed to the exit. Violet passed in front of a mutant that had lost both his legs, but was still alive. As she passed by, he looked up with what looked like pleading eyes. She felt her heart torn apart at the idea that she wanted to help him, but she couldn't. There was only one way: she aimed at his head, and finished him with one shot. At this moment, something changed in her forever. She knew she wasn't a little girl anymore.

----------

There was no light in Basement 2. Charlie and Veruca had totally forgotten this fact and were caught off-guard by the pitch blackness when they emerged in the hallway.

"Uh, Veruca, you got the light ?"

"Yeah, wait a minute."

He heard her searching nervously in her purse. To him, the effects of the soda seemed to have worn off as he was back on the ground. However, that feeling of being incredibly lighter than before had not left him. Their new hallway was quiet but had an odd smell of smoke and burned rubber in the air. Charlie had a bad feeling about this. He stepped forward and tripped on something soft. He already knew what it was. He bent down and touched it with his hand, which confirmed his suspicions: a dead body. They were not alone...

"Got it !" said Veruca. "Now, we're gonna..."

"No, wait !"

She didn't have the time to turn it on, actually, for another light appeared in front of them, two lights to be precise, looking like car headlamps, but more powerful than a subway train. That's exactly how the kids felt right now, like two kids caught on the rails while the train was approaching. They fell on their knees and raised their hands before their heads for protection. Now they could see the same battlefield as before, with dead mutants and dead Oompa Loompas still holding their spears, but this time there were many more corpses. But they didn't pay attention, for they had much worse to deal with: the thing with the lights was a tall creature that looked like it was coming right out of a comic, a bipedal insect made of metal, with blades and cannons, expressionless electric eyes, and an Oompa Loompa on top of its head, who looked way more aggressive and solemn than the others, with his crown and jewels. The King, no doubt about that. They had been warned, but their friend didn't mention that big killing machine. He looked at them. They knew it was still far from over...

----------

The communication passage was exactly the way Mike had described: a dark bottomless pit that was too wide for them to see the walls, and filled with countless scaffolds, conveyor belts and machines of every size and shape, sometimes bigger than a house. However, to their surprise, it was all silent and dormant, without even one belt working.

"That's kinda creepy," Violet noticed.

"Yep, looks like it's just sleeping and about to wake up..."

Unwilling to pursue a gloomy conversation about the sleeping machines, the two kids hurried to the nearest ladder and climbed it up. When they reached the level of Basement 7, it seemed impossible to go any further.

"Dammit !"

"What's going on ?"

"There's a huge machine that crashed on the platforms. We can't get higher, all the bridges and ladders are destroyed !"

"Damn, a machine must've been damaged during the power loss..."

Horribly disappointed, they stood on the platform on Basement 7, right next to the accidented machine that lay among the remains of the scaffold as solemn as a tanker lying on the destroyed pier it had just wrecked on. Great, how were they supposed to go up, now ? They looked around them, but the nearest undamaged way would be much too long to reach.

"What's that ?" Violet asked, reading the title of the hatch that was on their platform. "_Fudge Mountain_... you think we'll find a cable car in their ?"

"Perhaps... let's just try it."

The first thing they felt when they opened the door was the cold. Where the whole Factory was supposed to be toasting hot, that room was colder than a fridge. Violet began to shake strongly while she was trying to get used to the new temperature. Snake was a little less bothered, being cold-blooded himself, but still, he wouldn't spend a holiday in here. Here, damn, what was _that_ ? For a moment, they would believe they were actually outside, for the room was wide, high, and was plunged not into darkness but into an artificial night, with an artificial sky, artificial clouds, and even a light imitating the moon. The illusion was almost perfect, so much indeed that they could feel a December wind caressing their cheeks. Their feet were in the snow. A thick layer of flawless white snow was covering the floor, and in front of them stood a mountain, a real mountain of rocks and snow of about fifty meters in height, its conic summit glowing softly under the fake moonlight. Like about everything they saw before, it looked perfectly out of place. They had just witnessed horrible things minutes before, and now they were here, in a perfectly imitated mountain landscape, an impressive and poetic vision that made them stand still, their mouths agap.

"He has his own mountain !" Violet exclaimed. She bent down and picked up some snow, which she put in her mouth. "The snow tastes like sugar... it's Fudge Mountain ! I'm pretty sure the rocks are fudge !"

"I don't think we should try, we never know... anyway, let's not lose any time, we should get to the top, there may be an exit up there..."

On they went. The way to the top was not especially hard, but pretty tiresome. They were lucky it wasn't a real mountain, for neither of them could imagine climbing three hundred meters in that cold. Only, there was nothing on the top.

"Oh, great !" she explained. "You made us climb all this way up to find nothing ! Now, we just have to go back down and find another way. Thank you very much, Snake !"

"If you just stopped whining and took a good look around, you would have seen this..."

Then calmly, he bent down in front of a small metal box at his feet, half-buried in the snow. He opened it to find a red button.

"We may not push that button, we never..."

Too late, a mechanic noise informed her that he already did it. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then a rope equipped with some kind of harness descended from the sky like magic and arrived at their level.

"Wow ! Here's the miracle..."

"I guess you found your cable car."

Without waiting, they grabbed the rope and secured their feet in the buckles of the harness. Almost immediately they began to mount, heading to the sky. They passed a thick barrier of clouds, and the temperature increased progressively, until they came back to the usual warmth of the Factory. They were now in a much smaller room which walls displayed other harnesses and various climbing equipments, along with several boxes of different colors. The utility shed for the mountain, certainly. That was surrealist, they had just used a rope that popped from the sky to pass through the clouds and arrive in another room, in the sky. The artificial atmosphere had really disoriented them. They were not in the sky, actually, they were just back in Basement 6.

James opened a blue box and recognized the control pannel. He quickly typed the code to bring the light back. On her side, Violet tried a yellow box, and found a bundle of gas masks inside. She took two of these, they could be of some use. They then went on their way, not wasting one more second, and followed again the familiar corridors of this basement, until they reached the familiar hatch _Wonderland Backstage_.

"Good idea, the masks," Snake said. "Let's put them on, so that we won't be affected by the poison."

"But what are we supposed to do back inside ? the elevator is dead."

"Yeah, but if we get to the pit, we could grab the cables and climb up. That's the shortest way, or we could search for another way, but by ourselves it might take hours."

"Then let's do that."

Once the masks were properly put on their faces, they opened the hatch and penetrated into the deadly purple mist of the whangdoodle venom. It was as thick as before, to a point that the machines were reduced to ghostly figures. The blades had been disactivated, and with the poisonous fog, no creature could possibly lurk in this place. It looked so deadly that they couldn't even think of removing their masks ! Almost blind, they made their way, hesitating, and finally reached the elevator pit, again. As Snake had planned, there was still the broken cable dangling over the pit, and it was solid enough for them to climb it. He looked at Violet.

"After you," he invited.

"It's an honor, sir," she curtseyed mockingly.

She reached out and grabbed the cable. Then, after testing it, she held it tight and lifted her legs from the ground to wind them around it.

"It's okay, it won't yield."

Then she began to climb up, and Snake was following just behind - or under, if you prefer. Looking up, she guessed roughly where Basement 2 was supposed to be, though it was too far to see it. However, she could hear noises, very distinctively. Sounds of lasers... a battle ? Charlie and Veruca were in danger !

"Hurry up, Snake !" she cried out. "We've got to help them !"

----------

A red flash, a loud thunder bang, and another body was thrown over their heads, turned into a fireball. The Loompa King was purposedly missing his preys. The two children were curled up on the floor, trying to make themselves as small as possible. They were trembling and pleading. The King enjoyed it. Face to face with his war machine, they were defenseless and they knew it, so their last resort was to kneel down and pray. Humans... what a pathetic useless race.

"Where is Mike Teavee ?" he roared in English as he shot in their direction again, drawing an arc of fire behind them. "I know you know where he is. Tell me, tell me where is that murderer, and I will make your death a short one. Otherwise..."

He took aim with the robot's lasers. "Otherwise, you'll just burn !"

The girl put herself up and faced him. She had guts, he had to admit that.

"Please," she cried, "please, Mr King ! If Mike killed some of your men, he did only defend himself ! Now, you're reacting exactly like him, all of this is useless ! We don't want to fight, Mr King, we just want to go back home. You are not evil, I'm sure of it. Wonka is evil !"

Suddenly, the King stopped. To Veruca's greatest expectations, he seemed to be thinking deeply.

"I never thought of it this way," he said softly. "You are right, all this escalation of violence will lead us nowhere but to destroy each others, and that's what Willy Wonka wants. This man is evil. You are pure children, you deserve to go back to your families, and I vow to help you as much as I can."

Behind the wall of tears that covered her face, Veruca smiled. "Is it true ?" she asked, her heart ponding with happiness.

In response, the King pushed a button on his robot and the lasers put themselves in position for a straight shot. "Of course not," he said, "you have offended my people, you are nothing but insects to me ! You only deserve to die !"

All hopes were lost. Charlie crawled to Veruca and hugged her as they both watched the dreadful barrels from which death would come out in an instant. All of this pain, all of these efforts, for nothing. They closed their eyes. Farewell, cruel world !

_AAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaah !_

The unexpected cry made them open their eyes again, just in time to see everything going crazy ! At first, they didn't understand what was going on, and they thought it was the robot running wild, staggering around like a drunk man. The noise of its metal feet on the floor was resounding and unbearable. Then, they noticed the Oompa Loompa in command was screaming, not in fear but in pain: there was a long and thin black snake, that possibly dropped from the ceiling, winded around his neck, with its fangs dug into his face. Veruca wondered for a second where that was from, when she remembered James mentioning that he had released four snakes in the facility, as spies. Then he had just saved their lives ! They were both horrified and fascinated by the agony of the Loompa King, as his robot was turning violently in every directions, its long arms punching aimlessly into the walls, digging large holes, and progressively heading to a wide dark passage behind it, like a pit. The elevator pit ! The metal mantis was now on the edge. It shot one last burst of lasers at random. The kids flattened on the floor just in time. And it finally fell backwards, straight into the pit. They heard two different screams, and the soft noise the machine made when it crashed way, way below them, so deep that they barely heard it. However, the screams sounded close. And now that the machine had crashed, they became actual words:

"That was one Hell of a dive !"

"Is everything alright up there ?"

Veruca raised her eyebrows in sheer astonishment. "Violet !"

Charlie had eyes so wide he looked like an ant. "Snake !"

Immediately, the girl turned on her light and bent over the elevator pit: they were here ! They were alive ! Violet and James, climbing up the cable, they had made it ! Already, Violet was at Veruca's arm range. She and Charlie grabbed her and helped her up, and the trio went on a long and tender embrace. Only a few hours had passed since they got separated, in the Inventing Room, but to them it felt like years. They just couldn't go alone, now. The experience had created too deep a boundary to be explained with mere words, but they were not friends, they were brothers and sisters.

Snake arrived, removed his mask, and stood before Veruca in a mock military stance.

"Boss," he said with a smile, "mission complete. I'm glad to see you have made it even without me, but I guess that in the end, I haven't been particularily useful."

"Don't be too hard with yourself. You have been great, and I'll never forget what you did for us."

She gave him a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, James."

"You don't look so good," he said as he looked at her bandaged legs and arms.

"Oh, you can't even imagine what I've been passing through ! I mean... what we've all been passing through..." she looked at Violet, the girl with a blue skin. "It's not gonna wear off, is it ?"

"I'm afraid not," she sighed as she took her own mask off.

She gently tapped her shoulder to comfort her. "I got something to confess... I hated you at first sight."

The blue girl let out a laugh. "Don't worry, me too !"

"I guess, but when I saw you turn into that giant blueberry... well, I couldn't help but think it was rather funny. I'm sorry. I was childish and immature."

"I was too. That's okay."

"Uh, I don't wanna interrupt the girl-chat," Charlie interfered, "but we may have to get to the exit now and talk later ?"

Snake lifted his gun in response. "Then let's go !"

Charlie considered the weapon with amazement. "Where did you get that thing ?"

"From a robot. Violet has one too. By the way, what was that thing you threw into the pit ? It almost hit us."

"The Oompa Loompa King. He was killed by one of your snakes. All the others Oompa Loompas have been decimated by the zombies."

"You had zombies too," Violet said somberly.

"You know something about them ?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, I understand."

They reached a hole in the wall from which a blue light was coming. The room that hole led to looked like a boiler room, with a bunch of machines and pipes everywhere. They entered.

"What's this room for ?"

"Looks like those machines are meant to keep the temperature warm or something. It must be linked with the Chocolate Room !"

"Then the exit is close !"

"I just hope Mike and Augustus are okay."

"We can't do anything for them right now. The cops will do a better job."

While chatting, they turned round the room and searched, until they found a steel ladder on a wall, right next to a red arrow pointing up and bearing the mention _Garden: Maintenance Access_. The Garden. The Chocolate Garden. The exit. At last.

"Watch out !"

A flash, another laser shot, that passed beside the kids and crashed on a pipe in a rush of sparks. They all ducked by reflex and turned towards the enemy: two cylindrical metallic bodies.

"What are these ?" Veruca asked.

"WonkaBots," Snake answered. "But I thought we had them all out of order !"

They fired again, closer this time, and the sparks rained on the kids who rolled on the floor to avoid them, while trying not to become a target. Snake held out his rifle. His finger, though, was not on the trigger.

"No !" Violet screamed. "Not the red button !"

Too late. He fired his rocket, that went out followed by a white plume of smoke, and hit one of the Bots. It lasted only one second. A blinding orange light, and a hot wind, and that was all. The Bots had been pulverized, along with an imposing machine that was close to them, reduced to a black stain on the floor. The rocket had not destroyed, it had literally suppressed its targets from reality.

"Wow," he whispered, "Mike was not lying about the power of these things !"

"What were these Bots doing here ?" Violet wondered. "They're supposed to be dead."

"I don't think that really matters," Charlie said. "Let's just run away from this place now !"

"Charlie," Snake said, "your words are always the wisest. En route."

On the top of the ladder, they found themselves inside a white dome, less than a meter high, apparently made of sugar. It's only when they managed to open the top of this dome and finish climbing to arrive in the familiar candy garden of the Chocolate Room that they realized it was only a hollow candy mushroom that hid effectively the maintenance access. How pleasant, how reassuring it felt to be back in the garden, that reminded them of the short while during the Tour when they felt carefree and genuinely believed to be having a good time. This seemed so far away from them, now, like a dream you wake up from and barely remember an hour later. Even the garden seemed to have changed its mood, switching from its colorful and inviting aspect to a more threatening appearance: actually, the power loss had shut down all the lights except the emergency ones that spread their intimate red glow over the room, allowing the large trees to cast large shadows behind them. The peaceful waterfall was shut down, and as a result the chocolate river was now stagnant. But they didn't care. Details, only details. For now, they were virtually free. They had triumphed over all the obstacles, hallucinations, giant spiders, vegetal monsters, vicious traps and zombies. They had survived the ordeal, and together they felt invincible. They remembered where the door was. They ran to it.

----------

"Boss, the children are reunited, and they're heading to the exit !"

"I know."

Still in front of his computer, Wonka sounded totally unaffected by the news. Wilkinson tried to appeal his worriness:

"Boss, they killed the Loompa King, destroyed two of our WonkaBots and an hormonal contol machine, and now they're in the entrance hallway. Boss, they are less than fifty meters away from the main door !"

"So what ? Mr Wilkinson, may I remind you that I still control the WonkaDolls ? If they dare open the door, they get immediately shot dead by a thousand bullets."

"But you want them alive."

"Better dead than safe. Too bad, we'll try again, with other children. I know these specimens were unique, but... still, we've got Augustus, and with my program working, Mike will soon be mine too."

"May I remind you that we still have four WonkaBots and one FlyBot working ? They're very close to the kids, if we move them now, they're in contact in barely a few minutes."

"Do you have a precise idea, Mr Wilkinson ?"

"Yes, sir. We set up an ambush and capture one of them. The FlyBot can do it, and the others will serve as diversion. We bring the captive here, in Basement 13. These children are a real group, now, and they won't leave any of them behind. They must already feel guilty to have to leave Mike and Augustus behind. They'll try to come down to rescue their friend, and we'll just let Meat handle them. He's strong enough to deal with them, even that Snake boy cannot beat him. And in the worst case, if they don't follow their friend here... well, three specimens out of five are already a nice result."

The chocolatier looked at his assistant with utmost attention. "I love you, Jonas," he just said. "Get your plan in action immediately. Really, I wonder what I'd become without you... I'll just activate the Dolls, you never know..."

On these words, he entered a command on his computer, and typed _Enter_.

----------

A movement of panic ensued when the dolls popped out of the earth again. Remembering the berserk shooting an hour earlier, the people gathered around the gates instinctively knelt down, screaming, while the soldiers raised their shields, but nothing happened. Actually, the ugly midget puppets weren't aiming at them at all, to Lieutenant Roarke's wonder, they had their gun eyes pointing directly towards the main doors of the building. As if they were about to shoot anyone who would try not to go in, but to come out.

"Boys," he screamed at his soldiers, "brace yourselves ! Something's gonna happen."

"What is it, Sir ?"

"I don't know. That's the problem. I don't know what we must expect..."

Inside, the great long hallway with its red carpet going infinitely looked to the kids like the lobby of Heaven. The lights were still functioning here, and thus the look of the gallery had not altered since they used it for the first time, at ten o'clock this morning, when the Tour began. When they first came in, they were not afraid. They were in a wondering and excited mood, as they expected it to be a once-in-a-lifetime day of joy, amazement, and perhaps even friendship. Now, they were not afraid anymore. They had defeated Wonka in his own game by surviving his Factory, they were the world's best friends and nothing could happen to any of them anymore. They had smiles on their faces and stars in their eyes, overwhelmed with feelings of triumph and ecstasy, and most of all, relief. The only shadow in their joy was the loss of Mike and Augustus, but the cops would bring them back... would they ? Sure, come on, that was their job.

They passed through a crimson curtain and arrived on the stage with the burned puppets from the show of this morning. The exit door was five meters from them. Five ridiculous meters. Watching it was as blissful as seeing the sunlight for the first time. None of the kids dared to walk to open it, though. They were all so nervous that they felt they couldn't even grab the handle. Snake took advantage of his calm instinct. He stepped forward.

Veruca saw like a shadow moving between two puppets. Mike ? Augustus ? Perhaps they had found a way to rejoin them ? She sneaked a little away from the group, and her bare feet made her walk inaudible, nobody noticed. She went in the direction of the shadow.

Outside, the soldiers were tensed in expectation. The dolls were still aiming at the doors and looked ready to shoot at any time.

Snake put his hand on the handle.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

... and the reader cried in frustration. C'mon, you can't stop now !

Well, yes, I can. Lol, I just love that cliffhanger. The end is getting very close, but not quite yet. That would be too easy for the kids. What ? Yes, I'm a sadist. Anyway, I'm on a period of fast writing now (I got bitten by a genetically altered pen), so the next chapter won't be that long to come. Stay tuned !


	24. Love Zone

/!\ WARNING /!\ I know some other writers have done much worse than me in this domain, but I just don't want to take any risk: as the title may imply, the following chapter contains a few sexually implicit scenes. Nothing graphic, but with the overall climate of hysteria and madness of this chapter, it might be considered disturbing. Just a precaution. Other than that, I've got to say I was positive I wouldn't make it, for it became quite chaotic and difficult to write. Enjoy.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deep below, the alternative generator, that big battery Veruca visited a few hours before, used to be noisy. Now, it was earsplitting. Being all alone to supply the Factory with electric power, the generator - ridiculously small compared to its giant big brother - was running like it had never before, its vibrations making the air so intense that anyone coming near would be struck by a thunder-strong headache. All the maintenance machines, were on their maximum around, the fans were producing as much wind as a tornado and the control panels were illuminated like Christmas trees. It was all going berserk in that small room.

When Veruca came, she had seen an electrified grid, meant to protect this room and its equipment from the giant vegetal monster in the pod below. That horrid monster made of rotten roots and tentacular outgrowths that had almost digested the poor girl. Now, a small outgrowth was slowly mounting through the conduct to the generator room, attracted by all the energy it spread. The tentacle came closer. It touched the grid. There was no shock. The grid, just like a good part of the other security systems, had been disactivated. The green tentacle gingerly winded around the metal ridges... and ripped them off the wall with ease. The tentacle entered the room, and soon, other tentacles followed. The plant monster had never been really satisfied with the narrow space of its pod. And now it was beginning its invasion of the basement.

----------

Snake had his hands on the door. They weren't lock. Just push them, he told himself, that's easy. But that wasn't. It was like his arms weighed tons. Somehow, he felt they weren't meant to get out yet. His instinct told him something terrible would happen if he opened the door. Then suddenly...

_Heeelp !_

That piercing cry, only Veruca could produce it ! Like one man, the kids turned round. What was Veruca doing behind them anyway ? They hadn't noticed her stepping back, even Charlie didn't. Blinded by their excitement, they had forgotten to keep an eye on each others. How fool ! Now, because of their lack of attention, they didn't even have time to open the door before something happened again. This time... well, for a few moments, they just didn't know what to do: Veruca was kicking and screaming, floating in the air, held by the waist by a big robot fly equipped with rockets. Only Veruca knew what it was, for only she and Mike had seen FlyBots before. And for her, it was only the second time that she was caught like this. How dumb she was ! And she really thought that shadow was a friend ! Now, because of her stupid curiosity, she got caught so close to the goal !

"What are you waiting for !" she screamed. "Shoot that thing !"

Snake obeyed a little too late: when he finally decided to shoot, the robot had already disappeared behind the curtain. They rushed in its following, but as they were back in the gallery, the fly was already disappearing with its prey. So close, and this had to happen !

Powered up by some kind of sheer rage and frustration, Violet dashed in the hallway in the fastest sprint she had ever performed. She couldn't let this get away with her friend ! She ran, and damn, she was almost as fast as the robot flying meters ahead, with Veruca struggling and yelling like never before. Never before had the spoiled kid been so frustrated than now. Never before had they all been so frustrated than now.

Four WonkaBots suddenly appeared, as out of nowhere, in front of her. She was too enraged to be surprised, and she didn't even slow down as she jumped and kicked them, all four in the same jump, kicked them so hard that their electric eyes were instantly shattered to pieces and their brain processors instantly disconnected under the violence of the strike. When she landed, it was in the middle of four dead machines. Quite satisfying. But Veruca had disappeared ! She still heard her scream echoing from far away, and as she looked she saw a hole in the ceiling the FlyBot had disappeared into. Dammit !

Charlie and Snake rejoined her, red and breathless. They were not as trained as she was.

"What happened ?"

"I missed her tight, here's what happened !" she roared, out of her mind. "Those Bots... he had to control a few of them and set up a gross trap, and we jumped right into it ! We were so close ! Only a few meters left, and now we've lost Veruca ! Back to the Go, do not collect two hundred dollars !"

What followed was just a mindless flow of obscenities coming from a hysterical young girl. Snake and Charlie began to think. They called for Mike, but he still wouldn't answer.

"Keep cool, Violet," Snake said. "We won't go anywhere if we lose our patience."

"You, there !"

That voice was loud and seemed to come from the walls. The three kids startled, and they first thought it was Mike. But then, the voice continued, and they recognized the characteristic sound of a megaphone. Someone was calling from outside !

"You, there ! If you can hear me, kids, just listen: I am Lieutenant Bronson Roarke, from the SAS. We are standing at the Factory gates, with your parents. We will get you out of there, but before, you must listen carefully: there is a gang of puppets armed with machine guns pointing at the main door, and we already know what those bastards are capable of. So, for your safety, _do not _try to get out by yourselves. We are currently preparing an attack team. We have a laser microphone, we can hear you if you are standing behind the doors. If you can hear me, please respond now !"

Snake surprised himself smiling. "Looks like we finally got some help from the outside world. I almost forgot there was actually an outside world."

"We should do what they say," Violet proposed, "and when they break inside, we ask them to find Veruca and the others."

"I don't think this is a good idea," Charlie said. "We don't know how long it will take them to come. Maybe... it will be too late for Veruca. I don't want to leave her a single second at Wonka's mercy."

"That's very noble of you," Violet replied, and she was sincere.

"Thanks."

"Here's a better solution," Snake interfered. "After all, I'm the one who was paid for her protection. I go on ahead, and you wait here for the cops to come. Then, ask them to come and help me. This way, whatever happens, at least you two will be safe."

"No !" they both shouted at the same time.

"What ?"

"I can't run away while Veruca is in danger !" Charlie said. "I want to save her. I... I think I..."

"You love her ?" Violet asked.

"Yes." He wasn't blushing.

"Well, that's good... and me, I don't want to leave any friend behind. So I'm coming too."

"This is insane ! You know that if you follow me, you'll only manage to kill yourselves. I am the most qualified, so stay behind and let me work."

"How dare you !" Violet shouted. "I don't care about how many people you had to kill in how many countries to pretend that you're better than us ! What I know is that we all know this Factory, we fought it, we survived it, and we can do it again. We are all qualified for this."

"And remember the last time we got separated," Charlie added. "First we lost Augustus, then Violet, then Mike, and finally we were lost, all alone, and we nearly got killed, _because we were alone_. That's what Wonka's been trying to do since the beginning, to tear us apart, because we can win if we're together."

Snake didn't answer. He had always been the lone wolf. Or snake, in this context. He wasn't at all an adept of teamwork, perhaps because everytime he had friends, it pretty messed up. But he had to recognize that they got nearly killed, each of them, hours earlier, and it only began to go better when... well, actually, it began to go better when they reunited. So maybe that Factory wasn't meant to be attacked by a single person, however experimented he was. Maybe he needed them perhaps more than they needed him.

"We are currently exploring possibilities to get an assault team to come and rescue you," Roarke declared from outside. "It might take a little while. If you kids can hear me, I repeat: do not try to get out by yourselves and wait for us. We need to know what's going on inside to set up a strategy, so please answer us !"

"So what do we do ?"

"We can't afford to wait for them. Too long. Mike can't go out as long as we're still inside," Violet said, "but it leaves Veruca. So I need you boys to promise me something. That we're never going out to safety, without her. And Augustus, if he's still alive." She remembered her visit in the underground lab. "And any of the other children who might be held here, somewhere, still alive and in need for help. We have to promise never to abandon each others."

She reached out and held her hand in front of her, palm down. "Friends," she declared solemnly, "until death do us part."

Charlie put his own hand on hers. "Until death do us part."

James considered the offered hands. "Experience taught me that it doesn't bring luck being my friend."

"We've all been unlucky since we found these Bloody Tickets. Are you with us ?"

"Friends... I thought I'd never have real friends anymore..." he finally put his gloved hand on the others. "Until death do us part."

The girl smiled at him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Charlie, you got an idea where to search ?"

"Basement 13. Wonka's hideout. That's the only place I can think of. Look at that." He took the plan from his pocket and unfolded it. "There are three ways to reach it, but one of these implies going on top of the mansion, which may be not a good idea, right ?"

"No, we'd better stick to what we know already. The mansion could be more dangerous than the basements, after all."

"Okay, then the two other ways are both in Basement 12. It means we've got to go all the way back down."

"Again," Violet sighed somberly. "That's just what I said, we've gone all the way up here, and now we're just going back down... at least, if there's something Wonka managed to do, it's to make me crazy !"

"But by taking back the communication passage that has no security anymore," Snake said, "we'll be down in no time. In theory..."

"Well, there's no other way, I guess. Charlie ?"

"Nope, there's none."

"Then let's just go ! Back to the Chocolate Room !"

But they were not out of surprises yet: as they went on their way and almost reached the door, the lights went dead without warning. Again, the kids were plunged into dead silence and pitch darkness. Violet's voice sounded more irritated than scared. That is to say, she was starting to get used to it:

"So what's going on _again_ ?"

----------

"No !" Wonka yelled, his eyes bulging and glowing red with sheer frustration. That was the first time Wilkinson saw him in such a state. "No ! You can't do that to me now ! Come on, stupid machine ! You're gonna run ! Come on, you bitch !"

Brightened by the dim light of Wilkinson's torch, the chocolatier was trying in vain to restart his computer, while cursing like a Frenchman. He began by typing hysterically on the keyboard and switches, and then he went on messing with the cables. He was totally out of his mind. Wilkinson just watched him working, not daring to say a word. The computer had shut down by itself a few seconds before. Along with the lighting. Logically, such a breakdown must have something to do with the generator. That's what Wilkinson concluded. But his boss didn't seem to agree. Against all logic, he was still trying with desperate energy to restart the computer, like a child hitting angrily a toy that just broke down. He had just had Veruca caught and was about to turn the situation back on his side when this breakdown occurred, and now he was not in control of anything. Strange parallel, the surgeon thought, was the relationship between the chocolatier and his Factory: since his total domination on the building began to wither, he's been progressively losing his own self-control, turning nervous and impatient. And now his absolute power had vanished, he stood there, hysterical, insane. Wonka had always believed he was the master of this huge and mysterious facility, when in reality it was the Factory itself that controlled him, for its imposing, reassuring presence around him, in his heart and soul, was his whole life, his own universe, his last sanctuary that in its core kept the last remains of a sort of emotional balance, the last landmark of safety in his tortured soul. It shared his life, and he shared its life, in total dependency, like a girlfriend, like a wife. But now she had broken up, and he had broken down.

Of course, they had other facilities throughout the world, but Wilkinson knew it was not the same. It was not just about driving on his insane experiments. Each room of this wonderful Factory was a product from the depth of his imagination. Even the way these were organized, the colors, the shapes of the hallways and the whole structure were the exact reflect of his mind and were meaningful to him in a level of understanding he was the only one to reach. That was the universe he had created to protect from the frightening outside world. Now, the creature was escaping the creator, and Willy Wonka was torn apart. They had known a few breakdowns in the past, that was nothing. But this time, the kids had escaped, the experimental subjects had escaped, wreaking havoc in his perfect world, the Oompa Loompas were slaughtered, the very Core System had been hacked, all of this was the dream of his life shattered. This last power loss had only been the breaking point, the fatal blow. He would never be the same anymore.

Wilkinson couldn't stand seeing his boss like that. Willy Wonka, who was first his protégé, only a child when they met. But the surgeon had quickly noticed the huge, the genius potential of the child. Together, they had built an empire. Together, they had set up a project that would change the face of the world forever. And everything was being lost. Wilkinson hated those responsible of this. He hated the children with all his heart.

An Oompa Loompa arrived behind him and tugged his pant. The man bent down and let the dwarf whisper something in his ears. He nodded, and stood back up.

"Boss ?" he called. No answer. Wonka was still pestering against the machine, not noticing his presence at all.

"Boss," he continued, "there is no electricity anywhere in the whole facility, except the self-powered emergency lights. We have confirmation it is a total breakdown, so its cause is most likely a physical damage to the generator."

He stopped and waited for an answer that did not come.

"Therefore, Boss, I suggest that..."

"Would you _please_ leave me alone ?"

His voice was calm, but a certain tension in it showed clearly that the man was falling down. Wilkinson did not insist. He calmly went back in the surgery, and from here took a ladder down to the meat storage.

"Mr Wonka is not fit to give instructions for the moment," he told the Oompa Loompa, "so I'll take things in charge for now. We're going to look for informations about the generators' current status. Are you sure absolutely nothing is working ?"

The midget nodded.

"Not even the..."

The midget nodded again.

"So... they can break in, anytime..."

----------

_Outside,_

"How's it going ?"

"Sir, the puppets have still not moved. Not an inch. Nobody replied to our calls."

"Okay, keep watching and call me if anything happens."

"Yes, sir."

Roarke tapped the shoulder of his soldier as an encouragement, and gave a look at the killing dolls, still staring lifelessly at the doors, with guns instead of eyes. That was sick to have toys like that. He couldn't prevent a shiver. Just seeing these things, standing like that, motionless, waiting for a target that would not come... or maybe... the thought just couldn't get out of his mind. Maybe they weren't waiting at all, and they were just dead.

"Shields," he ordered as a precaution. He wanted to try, not to risk people's lives. He took a small rock, and threw it in the courtyard as far as he could. It bounced against the wooden door and landed between the puppets, near the position where the previous team had been killed. He expected a reaction from them, but nothing happened. Weird... the puppets were as calm as dead crows. He looked at his watch. It was nearly 6 pm. He hadn't noticed, but the night was almost down now, lamp posts and police searchlights were taking over, displaying a crude, cold white light. The night was cold, and calm. There was not a sound apart from the murmur of the crowd that had gathered behind the police lines, or the conversations of the parents drinking hot tea and trying to comfort each others. And even these sounds were almost inaudible. The people were unconsciously trying to make as less noise as possible. Everyone was tensed, feeling that something was about to happen, without really knowing when, and what. Roarke knew what and when. It was the next attempt at breaking in, which was planned for six. He had a few minutes left, he decided to go briefing the dozen volunteers he had gathered.

----------

Mr Teavee woke up at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. He raised his head from the keyboard he'd been sleeping on, in the communication tent, and looked at Mr Salt.

"You finally calmed down your wife ?"

"I served her a tea laden with cognac," he confessed with a smile. "It works everytime."

Mr Teavee chuckled, tired. "I guess so."

"I brought some for you," he said as he gave him a thermos. "Without alcohol, of course."

"Thanks."

"Anything new ?"

Mr Teavee yawned and shivered right after. The air was much colder now that it was night. "Not since I fell asleep, it's still..."

While talking he gave a vague look at the green screen of the monitor, and stop instantly, fully awake.

"What's that ?"

Before he fell asleep, the only things he could get from his attempts at re-connecting were parasites and the phrase: _Signal jammed_, indicating that the magnetic field was preventing the connection. Now, it was slightly different. The image was neat, no parasites. And the only phrase it displayed was: _Signal not found_. For unexperienced people, the change wouldn't mean anything. But Mr Teavee knew that in reality, it did change _everything_.

----------

"Okay, boys, listen carefully ! We don't know what we can find there, but remember, our main priority is to rescue the six children trapped inside. So I don't wanna see _Rambo IV _inside, got it ? You are of course allowed to use lethal force against any threat, but always proceed with extreme precautions, these kids can be everywhere and it would be very unfortunate if we shot one by mistake."

A few giggles came out of the small group of armed men.

"Oh, you can laugh," Roarke continued, "but I've already seen that happening, and it's not that funny, trust me ! Make sure your lights are always turned on and working, and if you have to get separated, always make groups of at least two men. But I guess you've learned all that at school. I'll be on radio contact all the time. Your second objective is to find and capture Willy Wonka, but I'll say it clearly because it is important, do _not _try anything until the children are _safe _and _sound_. A medical team will stand by near the gates, ready to take care of them. Is that clear ?"

"Yes, sir !"

The best part of his job. He just loved to hear this expression being shouted from a dozen mouths at the same time.

"Okay, now..."

"Wait !"

A female voice, they all turned toward it. It was Mrs Beauregard who was approaching, wearing body armor over her tracksuit, with a tactical helmet and carrying a shotgun.

"What are you doing, M'am ?"

"I'm coming with you."

Frank laughs came from the group. Even Roarke laughed.

"What do you imagine, we can't bring any civilian along. You'd better go have a tea."

"Hey, listen to me, you prick !" she yelled. The soldiers, surprised, stop laughing. "I don't give a fuck about your procedures and stuff, there's only one thing that matters to me: my daughter is trapped inside with her friends, and I'll come with you to get her out !"

Roarke came close and spoke softly, as if to a child: "Listen, M'am, you look like you have a temper, and I totally understand that you're worried for your kid, but you don't seem to realize that it will be dangerous in there. We are professionals, so don't panick, just sit back, and let the men do their job. Okay ?"

"Roarke... you know what I said to the last guy who told me that kind of macho speech ?"

"No. What ?"

"This."

And right after, the officer received the stock of her gun in the chin. It didn't really hurt, but for a second he felt like he was slightly losing touch with reality, stars were dancing before his eyes, and finally he fell down, knocked out. Ms Beauregard disdainfully walked away, already heading to the tank that was still parked where the gate used to be, letting the other soldiers take care of their boss.

"Sir, are you okay ? Sir ?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay." He was coming back to reality, and reality hurts, especially on the chin. "Jesus," he declared with admiration, "what a woman !"

"Lieutenant !" it was a guard calling him from the communication tent. "Lieutenant, you'd better come and see that !"

He looked at his watch: okay, they were about in time. Trying to forget his painful jaw, he went into the tent where he was expected. The bald guy, Teavee, was still in front of the computer.

"What's going on ?"

"Look at that," Teavee said.

He looked._ Signal not found_.

"Yeah, so what ?"

"It means that the network hasn't found a signal in the Factory to connect."

"Uh, yeah, I think I guessed. And ?"

"And, it means that if there was a signal, it could connect."

The military still didn't get it.

"Therefore," he pursued, "it means that there is nothing that is standing between our terminal and the Factory to prevent the connection... like a magnetic field, for example."

It finally struck him. "You mean that damn field is dead ?"

"Yes, but to a greater extent, it's the whole Factory that doesn't respond. I mean, the whole Factory could be dead, now. A power loss, possibly, or..."

But Roarke wasn't listening. The Factory was dead, he said. The puppets... dead ! Of course ! He rushed out of the tent, and caught the guard to trade his beret for a helmet. He then walked to the gate, passing by a rack to pick an assault rifle. He arrived in front of Ms Beauregard.

"Going somewhere, Lieutenant ?"

He showed her his rifle. "If you wanna play, girl, I'm gonna set the rules. I'm coming too."

She smiled gratefully. "I wasn't expecting less."

"You know how to use your gun, at least ? That's pretty tough stuff."

"My late husband had one like that. I can use it."

"Okay, then. Grenade !" he called, and immediately the soldier with the grenade launcher showed up. "Okay, kid, I wanna try something, you're gonna shoot one of these puppets."

The soldier went in position. The gate guards raised their shields. Roarke and Ms Beauregard stepped back. The soldier shot. There was a bang in the night and a fireball illuminated the courtyard. Three puppets went up in flames. The others did not react at all.

"Oh, God, he was right !" the officer hurried to the tank and tapped on the door. "Kurt, get this thing moving !"

The officer thought he had never been more satisfied than now, when he heard the engine roar like a wild bear and he saw the two powerful headlamps brighten the yard as well as under daylight ! It was working again ! And no more magnetic field nor puppets, they could attack !

"Go !"

The scene that ensued had the epic proportions of a Western, when the armored vehicle raced at full speed through the yard, with Mrs Beauregard, Roarke, and the guys of the attack team running behind it, and thrust through the large wooden doors, destroying half of the façade and running over a stage of puppets, crushing everything under its wheels like a juggernaut, to finally stop in front of a crimson curtain. The soldiers ran beside the tank and passed through the curtain, turning on their lights and bracing themselves. No threat. The place was empty of all presence beside them, and it was pitch dark except for a few trasers on the walls. Ms Beauregard recognized the hallway she had walked along with the other parents this morning. They were definitely inside. She even recognized the coats the children had tossed here at their arrival. She knelt down and gingerly picked up Violet's coat. She brought it to her nose and took a long smell. _Don't worry, sweetheart,_ she thought, _Mommy's coming to get you out_.

"It's time to kick some asses and chew bubble gum," the Lieutenant roared, "and I'm all outta gum !"

"Hey, Duke Nukem !" she called angrily. "This is no time to show off. This is serious."

"Sorry, couldn't resist. Is anyone here ?" he called out loud. "Children, you hear me ?"

Nothing. They had to move on.

----------

_Ouch ! My head... _Veruca grimaced and stood up with difficulty. It was not only her head. All her body was in pain.

_Where I am ? _She remembered her abduction by the robot, as she was so close to the exit. She would never forget what pain, what frustration she had felt. The Fly had brought her all the way back through the gallery. And there was Violet, giving them chase, to no avail. The Fly had taken her through a secret passage in the ceiling. It was a small tunnel, barely lit, that brought them to a pit which they descended. The place looked familiar, but the robot was flying at such a high speed that she had no time to think - without mentioning the adrenaline in her brain that made all reasoning impossible. And then, the blackout. All the lights had faded for no reason. Surely the robot had been disoriented and probably it could not see well in the dark, for there was a collision. She didn't know how it happened, but the shock made her faint, to awaken here and now. Dark place. Silent. Metallic floor. And hot. Tropical hot. Hot like... no, couldn't be. Not _again_.

Her pen light. Gladly it was still working. She looked around, and the first thing she saw was the ugly face of an Oompa Loompa. She let out a yell and dropped her light, to quickly grab it back with nervous movements. The dwarf was not moving, it was dead. Wait a minute, she knew that one. The Loompa King ! She recognized its mantis robot lying next to the wrecked FlyBot. She had no reason to fear these, these were just scrap, now. There was a shadow crawling among the pieces of metal. She stood still. The shadow raised its head and considered her for a few seconds. Her blood froze as she recognized the snake that had killed the King. But it didn't attack her. It just looked, and it went away. Easy there...

She now looked at the place, and discovered a small cab, hardly larger than a closet, with its ceiling destroyed by the passage of her robotic abductor, and through it she could see the pit over her head. Yeah, for some reason that definitely looked familiar... wait, the King ! That pit was the pit the King killed himself in, and also the pit Violet and James came from. So this was the elevator they were supposed to take, and she was now standing in the cab that had fallen... how low, exactly ?

She left the cab to find another unfriendly concrete corridor. She was tired of these, but she supposed it was a standard in the Factory's structure: the upper basements had large white and metal hallways, and the lower basements had dark narrow concrete corridors. It was obvious, after all: the closer to Hell you were, the creepier it became. But how low exactly ? She got the answer from a notice on the wall. She couldn't believe her eyes when she read this. All of a sudden, she forgot the pain, and all strength left her poor, sore body. A ball appeared in her throat and made her whine. Hot, furious tears of rage rolled down her cheeks.

Basement 11. The Blast Furnace. Again. Back to the Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.

----------

When Mr Wilkinson came back to see how his boss was doing, it was to find him in a rather odd position: the chocolatier had taken off his coat and his dope hat, and he was now... doing push-ups on the floor near the computer.

"Boss ?"

"Jonas," he said without stopping, "I know what you're going to say, and it's useless. I have taken my decision."

"What decision ?"

Wonka stood back up and grabbed his cane. He looked way healthier. Self-confident, and determined.

"I understood that when it all messed up around, the only thing I did was to sit before my computer and wait. Well I've been waiting too much, and I'm not leaving my beautiful Factory at the hands of policemen and zombies and whatever else. And as a wise man said, if you want something well done, do it yourself."

"Boss, I'm afraid I'm beginning to understand..."

"Precisely, I'm going up to Basement 10 to reactivate the main generator."

"Boss ! This is suicidal, you don't know what is really happening up there !"

"So what ? It's my place, after all, and I shall control it. I won't be afraid of my own house. I'm taking a few Oompa Loompas with me, for backup."

"And what about the computer system ? How do you plan to take it back ?"

"Don't worry, I already considered this matter. Everything will be fine. I'll be back in a few minutes."

He disappeared without adding anything. As for Wilkinson, he was still astonished by what he had just heard, and did not see his boss had gone.

"Good luck, then," he just said blankly in the air.

----------

The Furnace Room had changed since her last visit. It was still toasty as Hell and the bridge was hot under her feet, but the whole place _looked _colder: the constant buzz of the FlyBots was gone, the deep purr of the machines was gone too, everything was stopped and dormant, and the light coming from the lake of liquid metal, the light that used to be a bright, radioactive red, was now a bleak orange glow. No more power, she thought. Not a single machine was running, everything was out of power, and the lake was left unmaintained, consuming its own heat silently, slowly dying in a temperature decrease. It was almost pitiful, to see this amazing facility, this giant of bricks and steel that erected arrogantly towards the sky, powerful, indestructible and mysterious, now in a state of weakening, decaying, dying of a cancer with multiple faces: the children. But Veruca had no mercy. The owner of all this, the richest and most depraved man on Earth, deserved no mercy. His candies were delightful, however. That would be lost. She wondered if someone could take over the business, once Willy Wonka was arrested. There were lots of horrors that shouldn't exist inside the Factory's walls, but there were also great wonders that didn't deserve to disappear. She would love to see a new Chocolate Garden, exactly identical with the previous one, but devoid of drugs and other creepy things.

If the light had slightly decreased, the haze caused by the heat, however, had not, and she still couldn't see beyond a few meters. As she looked over the bridge, on her right just after she entered, she could see the machine with the chain she had tried to climb earlier, and the pod where she almost got eaten alive by maggots. Ew... it felt weird to come back here when she thought this ordeal was already behind her. It felt terrible. It was the torture of the loop: you think it's done when you're out, but you only manage to get back in and do it again. And now... oh, no. She was so desperate she began to laugh. She had just concluded that, judging by the position of the door, the broken elevator she came down with was actually the very service elevator she had tried to take to go up the first time she came. If irony was a blueberry, she could make a pie. So what to do now ? Keep going back and search for a stairway, if there was one ? Sounded pretty random, but that was the only solution.

She remembered there was a hole somewhere on her bridge, and she slowed down. She didn't remember where it was exactly, and with this haze, she wouldn't see it before it's too late. She eventually reached it, but it wasn't a hole anymore. It had been repaired, or more precisely, the metal had been replaced by a dark green vegetal material. Looked like roots.

_Uh-oh..._

She hoped it wasn't what she thought it was. Not that again, please ! She stepped on it cautiously and grimaced. It wasn't pleasant, but at least it wouldn't yield. She crossed the hole, but on the other side, it was the whole bridge that was now covered with those solid green roots. She frowned. What the Hell ? Something was turning terribly wrong here. She began to hurry, she didn't want to stay here any longer. She reached the door. And what was beside was true horror: the pod she had "visited" earlier, the one with the giant vegetal monster in it, was broken, its metal walls torn wide open, and a gigantic, totally disproportionate tree-like abomination was growing out of it, spreading its rock-hard roots, leafless branches and tentacular stems all over the furnace, following the walls and binding on the bridges and inactive machines like a nightmarish vine. The monster had escaped, and it was fully grown. Somehow, she guessed, it must have found a source of energy to grow so big so fast. She wasn't exaggerating, when she estimated that already half of the room was infested with that plant. If it kept on at this rythm, it would eventually... consume all the Factory ! Dang, even when apparently out of power and inactive, that damned building could _always _find a way to get you in trouble ! She had to be fast. She didn't want to be attacked again, for this time she had even less chances to get away. She passed the door. Oh, great, the steel staircase ! She forgot it, it was accessible but so long ! No choice. She took a deep breath, gathered her courage, and climbed up.

The familiar corridor she had taken hours earlier didn't look so familiar anymore: the plant was growing, fast. The concrete on the walls was now invisible, hidden under a thick layer of vines, this time growing numerous leaves of a chemical green color and spreading a powerful smell that made the girl a little dizzy. Plus, she began to sweat again. It was so hot, and wet, in this place ! Added with the smell, it really felt like she were in the middle of the Amazonian rainforest. The whole thing seemed to come from the familiar door, the one that led to the alternative generator. Normally, she could hear the washing-machine noise of the dynamo vibrating added with the strong gusts of the fans, but it was silent. She opened this door. Inside, it was worse: just like the corridor and the furnace, everything was covered with vines and tree-like outgrowths, but this time it was absolutely _everything_, even the floor had become a thick carpet of grass. The exotic perfume was even stronger, and the whole place was bathed in a bleak green light. Was it the plant that was producing its own light ? Anyway, she could only tell it was the generator room because she had already come here. For any newcomer, this place looked like it had always been a greenhouse. Over the massive leafy trunk that used to be the dynamo, there was a large hole in the ceiling, leading to a room even larger, with a ceiling so high that from her position, Veruca first thought it was an open space. But it was only an opening to the upper basement. A way up... well, she'd better try.

The girl climbed up the dynamo and grabbed a dangling root to bring herself up the hole, into the new room. Well, if you could still call that a room. The Chocolate Garden was nothing in comparison ! It was a forest, a supernatural forest with massive distorted trees which long, snake-like branches went winding around other trees or metallic structures over her head that looked like the remains of a network of bridges and pipes. Their roots formed complex, spider-like patterns on the thick, juicy, chemical grass that was now the floor. Lianas were climbing on and dangling from wherever they could. Here and there, were pools of a toxic-looking compound which the plants put their roots in. And all around was that same feeling of breathing through a boiling sponge for the air was so hot and wet, and that dizzying vegetal smell, and that green misty light. It was like the inside of the pod she had already visited, but a thousand times bigger. Nearly the whole basement was infested. Without losing her determination, she climbed on a root and made her way to the center of the room. She couldn't resist grabbing a liana on the way and pretending to be Tarzan. The middle of the room was occupied by a large lake of that same toxic compound, in the middle of which erected an impressive obelisk of steel, almost untouched by the plants. The vision of such a monument standing in the middle of this hostile jungle made Veruca lose her marks for a moment, she believed she was in a remake of _2001: A Space Odyssey_.

It was the core of the structure, for all the bridges and pipes she could see over her head were organized around this metallic column. Veruca climbed a tree and drew closer to the toxic lake. Whatever happened, she must not fall in that lake ! It looked so toxic it could kill her in an instant, or worse, turn her into one of those... yuk ! There was not a branch or a liana that was long enough to make her cross the lake to the pillar, but there had to be a ladder somewhere that could bring her up to the nearest bridge, and to see better she had to be in a high position. The branch she was climbing was overhanging the lake in an altitude sufficient to see the whole jungle rather clearly. But she was forgetting how thick the vegetation actually was. She could hardly distinguish a thing through the green walls that bordered the lake ! Was this luxurious jungle really the pod monster that had undergone some kind of mutation ? It was very hard to believe, but then again, what was really believable in this place ? She knew perfectly that if she were told everything she had seen, she wouldn't believe it. The monolith bore an inscription on its side which she could read clearly: _Power_. Like, electric power ? Of course, it made sense ! The alternative generator was in the basement below, so that had to be the main power ! It wasn't vibrating or making any noise. Stopped. But it looked undamaged, it looked like it could be turned on again. Mike must be completely disconnected without power. Maybe, if she could find the command... but first, she had to find a ladder. Looking up, she saw, on the side of a bridge, a structure that went down and lost itself deep into the vegetation. That did look like a ladder, but to make sure, she had to reach it... on the other side of the lake !

No time to lose, then. She went back down, on the grass, and began her way through the deep forest. She was progressing rather well for a castle brat. Actually, she used to enjoy long walks in the wild moors around the mansion, and although this jungle was much wilder and more tropical, her habits came back with ease and she progressed pretty smoothly, jumping from a large root to the other while avoiding the green ponds. It soon turned out to become a kind of game, and she surprised herself giggling as she went on. The only question that was bugging her was: if all that was created by the plant monster... where was it now ? Where was its mouth, and the seeking tentacles ? She quickly forgot that question when she finally arrived in sight of what was definitely a ladder, made green by all the vines that covered it. She walked to it when an inhuman cry caught her by surprise and froze her. She slowly turned round. She knew what she would see already. Over her head, on a branch, was perched a familiar creature, an ugly grey humanoid monster that was standing like a chameleon, its long tongue swinging in the air. How... how did that zombie arrived here ? Or maybe had it always been here ? It looked at her. It had spotted her, that was sure, and she had no weapon, no mean of defense whatsoever. She dared not move. The monster hissed and lept high, showing off its claws and fangs as it prepared to fall on its prey. To Veruca, paralyzed, it looked like everything went in slow-motion. She bit her lips, closed her eyes... there was a lash in the air, like a giant whip cracking, and she looked to see the monster that was struggling, caught in mid-air by a giant, moving stem... a tentacle ! Her mouth now agap, she watched the helpless monster being brought in the lake, where it was plunged into the green compound. There was a violent seethe, the surface was churning and foaming with force, before a disgusting, gurgling burp from underwater provoked a geyser-like reaction and ended the struggle. The zombie had been digested by the lake ! She quickly understood how. A set of long, sharp fangs displayed in a circle emerged from the water, then another circle of teeth appeared, then a third one, and a fourth one. Before, the monster had only one mouth, and it almost killed her. Now, it had no less than four mouths, settled all around the generator and hidden under the surface of the lake.

_Uh-oh..._

Then, it was a good dozen of green tentacles that in their turn emerged from the lake and began to lash in the air, already seeking for a prey. The monster had grown terribly large, and of course it was now hungry. She was next.

_Uh-oh..._

----------

On their side, Violet, Charlie and James all had a start as they were crossing the bridge over the now still Chocolate River. They had heard a sound of thunder, a violent clash, almost an explosion, coming from the entrance gallery they had just left.

"What was that ?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know," James said, "sounds like a whole army's breaking in."

"The cops !" Violet exclaimed. "The cops are coming to help us !"

"Maybe... or maybe not. Follow me, we'll hide, just in case. But you know, if they are the cops, you can still change your mind and follow them."

"We made an oath, now it's too late. If they are the cops, we'd rather have _them _follow _us_."

"That is courageous... or stupid."

The young mercenary took his two friends over the bridge, on the shore opposite the door. They gently crouched behind a small grove of lollipop bushes as James pointed his gun towards the large door that led to the gallery whatever-it-was would come from in a few moments. The Chocolate Garden was still bathed in that intimate red light that made the river look black and the candy trees cast large, threatening, spider-like shadows. That's amazing how a difference in lighting can make an inviting room suddenly look so oppressive. Well, it was not at all inviting when you knew what this garden was actually made of. And the fact that there was not a single sound to be heard made it even worse !

"Why is there still light if the power's out ?"

"Traser light," James explained. "Produces its own power in case of black-out, that's the basic equipment of every factory."

"There's something wrong in the air..."

Snake sticked out his tongue and smelled. Yes, they were right. He was used to the odd smell of this room - and now he knew what it was, though he would have preferred not to know - but there was another smell, more subtle, more vicious. Distracted by it, he threw several looks around, and eventually stood up.

"Be back," he whispered absent-mindedly as he walked to a large tree surrounded by a dark maze of sugar creepers. Charlie watched him go with worriness. He didn't like that attitude, he looked absent and weird, like hypnotized, that wasn't normal. But he himself didn't feel normal. He began to breathe heavily for no reason. Of course, the room was hot, but here it was different, he was feeling hotter inside, to a point that he felt his heart playing drums in his chest and his limbs trembling uncontrolled. What was happening ? The more he breathed, the more nervous he felt, yet there was nothing so different in this room, compared to the morning, there was just a different light and a small breeze that agitated the leaves of a tree... wait, they were indoor, there was no wind !

"Violet, do you feel something strange ? I got a feeling that..."

He looked at her to see she was in the same state: trembling and panting with nervosity. But what really struck him was her skin. He couldn't see how hard he himself was blushing, but the girl in front of him was almost turning indigo !

"I know," she said, "we're getting overexcited for no reason."

"Maybe the air is poisoned or something ?"

She suddenly giggled for no reason. "I don't think so, cause that feeling's not that unpleasant..."

She was getting weird in her turn. Or maybe was he just becoming paranoid ? He didn't know, he was now nervous senseless, he wanted to pee, it was an attack of stomach butterflies. Like when Veruca touched him, but a hundred times stronger. And curiously, he also felt good.

"Uh... maybe we should... you know, stay together... Snake ?"

The mercenary had disappeared among the creepers, a dozen meters from them.

"Let him be," Violet said. "The cops are gonna rejoin us soon, so we can have some time to relax. I won't be needing that for now."

She got up and dropped her rifle. Charlie didn't recognize her: she sounded totally unconcerned by their situation ! She was crazy !

"Wow, it's actually very hot," she moaned as she took off her sweater, revealing a light blue tank top. The beating in Charlie's chest grew even faster. "Better," she said.

"Violet ? Are you sure you're okay ?"

"What's the matter ? You look tensed. Let me help you relax..."

She came to him, her arms reaching out in an inviting gesture, but it was so ambiguous, so unnatural, that it scared him and he stepped back, only to be stopped by a tree behind him. He was trapped.

"Violet, you're not yourself ! What's going on, here ?"

"Could you just stop acting like a wuss ? Let yourself go, you won't be stressed anymore when I'm finished..."

She already had her hands on his shoulders, and he had no escape. He didn't want to hurt her by struggling, besides, he knew perfectly she was much stronger than him. He had only one thing to do:

"Snake, help me ! Snake !"

_Snake..._

The voice he heard was not Charlie screaming... it was a soft female voice chanting his name. In front of him. He moved further in the dark maze of creeps, dizzy with the sweet smell of sugar. That smell was exciting his senses and turning his reptilian instinct crazy.

_Impulse !_

His heart suddenly felt like it was trying to leap out of the ribcage. The boy groaned and fell on his knees, his hands instinctively put on his chest. What a pain ! For what reason ? What was going on ? It didn't stop. His heart was beating faster and faster, he felt his blood boiling, that was unbearable ! All his body was getting hot under this unknown state of excitement, and his reptilian metabolism just couldn't stand it.

_James..._

The voice called him by his real name, and forced him to move on. He knew whose voice it was, now, he had recognized it. He had forgotten Charlie and Violet. Nothing existed beyond the creepers. He began to crawl, progressing towards the voice.

On his side, Charlie was crawling too, trying desperately to escape the insane girl who was lying on the grass behind him, laughing madly, her arms gripped firmly around his legs, preventing him from getting up. She was too strong for him, and his arms were already getting tired. Gleefully, Violet began to snake up his body until she was at his level, lay him on his back and blocked his hips with her knees, while she had her hands holding his wrists over his head. He tried to break free, but her grip was strong as a machine. She had him totally helpless here.

"This is insane !" he yelled. "I'm your friend, Violet ! You remember, friends for life, you said it !"

"Of course, I am your friend. I never said I wanted to hurt you."

Before he could protest, she bent her head down and tried to kiss his lips, but he struggled and shook his head violently, to a point that she changed her mind... and preferred to lick his face like a cat !

James was still completely indifferent to Violet's fit of lust, as he was still on his knees, among the sugar creeps, trying to distinguish in the shadow the owner of the beautiful voice calling him. Something gently stroked his elbow from behind, but when he turned round he saw nothing.

_James..._

He turned round again, and again he saw nothing. Something stroked his back. This time...

_Impulse._

Gathering his energy, he brutally grabbed the thing on his back. The crystalized sugar yielded in his hand. This was only a creeper that touched him. He heard a soft laughter and turned round... and this time he saw her. Lying by the tree, on a small grassy platform, her nude body all wrapped in leaves, she was observing him with a gentle smile, big blue eyes, and golden hair crowning an angelic face. Jessifer. His heart beating faster than ever, he somehow felt human again as he crawled to her, and she was waiting, warm, welcoming. Hissing strongly under the effort, he reached out, but all he touched was the air, for Jessifer was here no more. There was only the grassy platform.

But she had not left him. A moment later, he felt her comforting hands on his shoulders. She was behind him.

"Don't turn back," she whispered in his ear. "Don't look at me."

"Jessy, you... you found me at last. I... I shouldn't have left you alone. Everyday, I..."

"I know you still love me. I know you have so much to say, but I am not the real Jessifer, and you know that. You know what is wrong, you have smelt it, though you didn't recognize it right away: what could turn you insane like that ? What could give you hallucinations and fantasies, so strong ? Something that is, in the end, natural, perfectly human."

He stood, doubtful, for a second. Then, as he thought of it, it caught him right in the face. "Yes... of course !"

Of course. Don't forget: the chocolate. Tons of it released. The air is saturated, now. Your friends are also going insane, James, and if you stay here with me, a tragedy will occur. Don't forget your mission. They need you more than you need me."

"I will see you again, someday. I promise."

"Meanwhile, I wish you well in Hell. Now, go."

The hands and the voice disappeared as abruptly as they had come. He took his gun and stood up, feeling totally rejuvenated. Jessifer could wait. But Charlie and Violet needed him. How could it spread into the room in the first place ? Perhaps the machine he had destroyed earlier was meant to contain it... God, he could have lost control anytime ! His snake instinct wasn't meant to cope with such a high quantity of love compound... and quite oddly, it was thanks to his remaining love for Jessifer that he overcame his hallucinations. He knew the effects of it, he learned it when he was still in school: intense relaxation, but also, for some people and at a high dose... lustful desire and hallucinations. Oh, no... not... not _them _?

"Snake, help me ! She's gone insane !"

This time he heard the scream clearly. That's what he dreaded. He had to move on quick, or there would be a rape in the next minutes ! He hurried through the maze of creepers, searching for the exit. Out in the garden, Charlie kept screaming and struggling against the insane girl who was now attempting to rip his shirt open. Snake was much needed. But he couldn't find a way out ! It looked like the creepers were alive and were trying to tighten to each others, like a spider-web, to catch the Snake in a cocoon. No it didn't look like: it was definitely the case. Already, darkness was falling as the sugar plants were blocking the lights. He hit them, but they had become hard as rocks. And Charlie couldn't hold any longer !

"Violet ! I'm here, sweetheart !"

The blue girl stopped and released her poor friend almost immediately as she heard the last voice she expected, her mother ! She turned to look at the opposite shore: it was not a dream, she was here ! Dressed like a soldier and accompanied with a dozen of heavily armed cops. They had come to rescue them !

"Mom !" she yelled as she ran to the bridge, the simple sight of her mother having instantly pulled her back to earth. Mrs Beauregard ran to the bridge too, determined not to leave without her daughter.

"Miss, wait !" screamed the Lieutenant, but she wouldn't listen. She had not seen the threat. At the moment the mother and the daughter were each on their side of the bridge, a nearby large tree fell right in the middle, breaking it neatly in two. The bridge collapsed before the two women could reunite.

"Mom !" Violet cried out in despair. She had been so close !

"Stay calm, sweetie, we're going to find another way ! The cops are here to help us, everything is gonna be okay !"

A loud crack echoed in the room, and the other bridge collapsed at this moment. The two shores were definitely separated by the river. Roarke hated this. Already, the air in the room was making him overly nervous, and now these bridges that collapsed exactly at the wrong moment, as if it was on purpose !

"Sir !"

The officer turned to his men... and found out that the bridges were the smallest of his troubles: around them, they witnessed the impossible. Even the Beauregards and Charlie were frozen when they watched it. First, the lollipop bushes began to swell up, until they reached about thrice their size. Then it was the marshmallow lianas, the sugar creepers, and the branches of the trees, that began to dangle and swing, agitated by a wind that didn't exist, to eventually take some speed and twirl and distort like insane candy tentacles. The swollen bushes blossomed into large, fanged and clawed carnivorous plants, that were roaring and salivating like in a cartoon. Except that here, these were not a cartoon, everything was real ! The tall candy canes bent and sharpened by themselves, changing their shapes from innocent canes to aggressive hooks. And one of the soldiers quickly learned that the mushrooms were as explosive as land mines. In a matter of seconds, the room had come to life and shifted from a candy garden to a deadly monster museum. This unexpected event, added with the curious air they breathed and that was messing up with their minds, made the soldiers forget all their professionalism and military trainings. In front of this new threat, they were as ineffective as girl scouts with guns. A few of them even wet their pants. On the other shore, Violet and Charlie forgot everything about the near rape experience and didn't even wonder where the Snake was gone. They were all captivated by the candy horrors. That was no hallucination this time.

One of the carnivorous plants attacked a soldier. Or maybe did this soldier just believed it would attack. That didn't make a big difference, for the soldier immediately opened fire, and all Hell broke loose. All the other cops, including Mrs Beauregard, were turned on by this shooting and engaged in a fusillade frenzy, to which the sugar monsters responded with even more savagery. Scared senseless, the two kids got down, trying to protect themselves from the deluge of bullets, hysterical cries and inhuman roars from the monsters. How could this garden come to life they didn't have a clue, but they had learned to stop searching for any sort of logic. Their search for protection was vain, for the plants on their side of the river were awakening too. Violet looked behind her, toward the creepers where Snake had disappeared. Charlie gazed at the rifle the girl had dropped on the grass. They needed both to survive.

Gathering her courage, Violet stood up and dashed toward Snake, but she quickly saw what was wrong, the creepers had weaved together very tight, forming like a cocoon. She hit it with strength, but couldn't break through the sugar that had become tougher than a gobstopper.

"Snake !" she called.

"I'm here !" he answered from inside the cocoon, "but I'm trapped ! I'm trying to get out, what's going on ? Sounds like a war out there !"

"It is, Snake ! The plants have come to life, and there are the cops and my mom... we're being attacked, we need you now !"

"I'm doing my best !" she could vaguely hear hits and laser shots from inside, which confirmed his words.

"Then do better !" she yelled.

At this moment she felt a pressure on her ankles, and before she could react, the liana that had winded round her legs tightened its grip and pulled her away.

Charlie, meanwhile, ran to the rifle and literally jumped on it, but a creeper had been faster than him and grabbed the gun before he hit the ground, to then toss it in the river. No ! He had lost the gun ! But the creeper gave him no time to despair as it was already reaching out for him. He rolled on the grass and managed to avoid it, when he heard a desperate cry behind him: Violet was in trouble ! She was outstretched in the air, her hands gripped on a cocoon of creepers and her legs trapped in a liana that was trying to pull her towards a larger tree. He rushed to help without waiting, but he tripped and fell, and looking up, his eyes met the large bulb-like green mouth of a carnivorous plant that was dominating him.

----------

The giant stem was tearing down the ladder almost as fast as Veruca was climbing it up. Boosted up by sheer panic, the girl was climbing at almost a supernatural speed. She finally set foot on the first bridge when the tentacle lashed in the air just above her head, missing her closely. Tight ! She didn't stop and ran for her life, she knew it was only the first level and she had a long way to the top, but the top priority was to bring herself out of the monster's range. She arrived near the generator and took the metallic path that rounded it, searching for a second ladder. Below, the monster in the lake was craving for her and sending its tentacles searching the ladders and bridges. These were everywhere ! She found the ladder, and climbed a second level. The stems kept following her. That was crazier than the first time ! She ran on the new bridge for the next ladder, and the one she had just used was already destroyed by the plants. That was a race to get to the top before it could destroy all the accesses and trap her. One more level and she was out of range ! She followed a bridge that ran along an ivy wall, the ladder for the third level was there. Only twenty meters ahead and she was safe ! But it seemed as if the monster could read her mind, because it's the exact moment the tentacles chose to hit the bridge and destroy a whole portion, right under her feet. She yelled and experienced the most intense shot of adrenaline in her life as she fell and, against all odds, managed to grip to the ivy. But the tentacle wasn't satisfied with this, it wanted her down. It winded around her ankles, just like it did the first time, and pulled down. She cried as her arms were outstretched, and she knew what was next: it would burn her legs with its acid to force her to yield, and she wouldn't resist...

_Bang ! _A shot ! No, an explosion ! An explosion below, and suddenly the stem released her ! She looked down, all the way down, and she couldn't believe what she saw: there was a man, at the ground level, who was throwing grenades into the lake ! The man threw another one. There was another boom, accompanied with a geyser-like burst of water, and a loud screech that sounded like a cry of pain from the monster. This man had just saved her life... and she knew who he was, for even without his coat and hat, she recognized the weird haircut and the cane of Willy Wonka. He looked up and yelled at her, but with the distance and the noise, she could only hear her name. Whatever, she didn't care about what he had to say. Would you trust a man like Wonka ? Sure not ! She climbed the ivy until she reached the ladder and went another level up. As if all of this was not enough, here was the Big Bad Guy who was coming to get her in person ! She had to put as much distance between them as quick as possible. She knew where the next ladder was, for she had understood how it was organized: one ladder was always close to the generator, and the next one was always on an opposite side, close to a wall. So, the next one here was around the generator.

She couldn't help but have a look below, just to make sure Wonka wouldn't follow her. How could he, the first two ladders had been destroyed ? But it was underestimating the chocolatier. He raised his cane up in the air, and suddenly, a grapnel-like device popped out of it at high speed and gripped to the bridge under hers. Like Batman he flew up and now, he was standing only a level away from her !

"Veruca !" he screamed. "Stop ! Listen to me !"

"Shut up !" she yelled back. "You think I'm stupid as to listen to you ? Don't come any closer, you freak !"

"Just listen to me ! I can get you rid of that monster !"

She stopped.

"Oh yeah ? And why would you do that ?"

"Because that monster is growing extremely fast. Soon, it will consume this whole building ! So you need my help, Veruca, that's your only chance to stay alive ! I know you're afraid of me, but if we don't do anything now, we're both dead !"

She was troubled. He actually had a point, here. She couldn't trust this pervert in any way, but he looked as scared and desperate as she was. By looking around her, she could see the ivy growing faster and faster on the walls. She was out of reach for now, but in a few minutes, it wouldn't be the case anymore. As if to quicken her to a conclusion, the monster winded its tentacles around the basis of the bridge network and shook it violently. Veruca and the chocolatier fell on their knees under this mini earthquake, which was followed by a spin-tingling metallic screech. If it kept shaking this way, the bridges would all give way... she had no choice but to cooperate !

"Okay ! What should I do ?"

"You need to go up to the fourth level, where you'll find a big lever. You've got to reactivate the generator manually, it will release enough power to fry this monster like a chicken !"

"Why don't you do it yourself ?"

In response, he produced another "grenade" (she could see now, that his explosive devices were not bigger than a coin and hidden in his cane) and threw it in the lake. The explosion calmed down the quake for a while.

"I must stay here and distract him, cause my weapons are not strong enough to kill him ! Go on, quick !"

Okay, no time to chat. She ran her way to the ladder, but the monster, probably made extremely angry by the grenade attack, provoked another quake, even more powerful. And this time it was not a screech she heard, but a clank. The bridges had yielded and collapsed ! To feel the solid ground disappear under her feet was such a dreadful sensation that she didn't even scream. She closed her eyes in her fall, and waited to feel the toxic water of the lake surround her, followed by the agonizing bite of the monster that would take a great pleasure devouring her... but it didn't happen. Instead, she felt a sudden, strong grasp around her waist, and she was pulled up. She opened her eyes.

"Hold on !" Wonka said as they mounted, thanks to his grapnel. His arm had a firm grip on her, she couldn't fall. That was like, the second time he saved her life ? To her, that was the proof everything was going nuts here. The ascent stopped. They were hanging in the air, stuck to the generator's side. There was a short platform a meter over them.

"You can reach it from here !" he screamed. "Quick, I won't hold long !"

Just as she did with Charlie, she pulled herself up and put her feet on his shoulders, then stood, grabbed the platform and pulled herself up on it. And she thought all her gymnastic lessons were useless !

"Can you see it ? Quick !"

She didn't need to be told about the emergency, for it was now the whole room that was quaking under the assaults of the monster. The big yellow lever was neatly visible on the side of the steel column. She grabbed it with both her hands, and pulled it down.

----------

Charlie groaned at every move, but the fear mixed with that unnatural euphoria helped him forget the pain. His right leg was bleeding from the wounds he received in his struggle against the man-eating flower, but he had to move on. He was climbing up the branches of a tree that looked still normal. Quite oddly, he thought it was the same tree he took a candy apple from, the same morning. He was climbing for his safety. He was in such a state of fear that he was reduced to the most basic survivalism: no Violet, no Snake, he cared about his skin first. The air was almost unbreathable. It was only a red haze of gunpowder smoke and cries of terror and pain. He had to get out ! His tree was quite close to a wall, maybe he could find an air vent ?

Mrs Beauregard, on the opposite shore, was aiming with her shotgun... but who to shoot ? Where to shoot ? She didn't know, she was in such a state of confusion ! The excitement made her hands tremble so much that she could barely hold the gun, and her vision was getting blurry, it was hard to distinguish... what ? There was nothing to distinguish, it was chaos in the garden ! The soldiers were screaming and fighting ineffectively against the plants that overpowered them. A few of them had already been killed, disemboweled by the creepers. Others were so mad that they were shooting at each others. She herself was about to crack. It was the gunpowder, or the smell of blood, or the room itself, or maybe all of these elements, that blurred her sight and her mind, one second she was in an intense state of euphoria and the second later, it was total paranoia that squeezed her heart between its ice-cold claws. She decided to huddle in a corner and not move. What was she doing here ? God, what was she doing here ? Violet ! That's it, she had to think of her daughter. She was here for her, she had to save her ! But where was she ? A shadow passed through the haze of the battle and stood close to her. A soldier of large frame, she recognized Roarke. He had not seen her. He stood, turned round, and fired at something, but she couldn't distinguish what he was aiming at through the chaos. She didn't care, though. Fear and anger disappeared from her as soon as she saw the soldier, and she felt euphoric and playful again. All of this felt virtual, like a video-game she was playing from the inside. She wanted him. She was here for him, after all. No, wait. She was here for someone else. But who ? She had a nasty feeling, for she knew she was here for a precise reason, and she knew she had known what it was a second before, but since Roarke appeared, she just couldn't remember. Something was messing up pretty badly in her body, and she guessed it was the same for everyone. Oh, whatever ! If she didn't remember, then it was sure not that important, was it ? She had to take care of what her body desired:

"Roarke !"

The officer turned to her and noticed her. He, like everyone, had that insane, hysteric look in his eyes, and his left temple was bleeding lightly.

"M'am ? Are you injured ?"

"Come closer !"

He obeyed, thinking she needed first aids, but as soon as he was at range, she grabbed him brutally by his armor, stripped him of his helmet, and gave him a lustful French kiss. He immediately tried to jerk away, his eyes bulging with astonishment.

"M'am, what are you doing ? My Gosh, you're nuts !"

"Oh, come on, don't act so prude, I know how to do with men."

She grabbed him again. He put his hands on her, ready to push her back again, but, caught totally off-guard by the situation, he didn't move.

"It's not the matter, M'am ! We're in the middle of a battle !"

"Great ! I never made it out on a battlefield, and that's one of my fantasies."

She was already poking at his body armor, trying to untie it, and before he could struggle more, she had him laid down. She was damn strong for a woman !

"M'am, you'll only get us killed with that ! Stop it now !"

"We're most likely to die here, so at least let's do it with fun !"

This time, the soldier was sure, she had lost her mind. But when she kissed him again, he kind of lost the strength to fight her back. She knew what she was doing: no man could resist her. And soon, Roarke was also forgetting the mission, and took all this as a game. Around them, the other cops were losing it, and the mutant candies were approaching.

On her side, Violet was getting worse. She had actually been brought helpless by the living lianas to a corner of the garden that was untouched by the battle. Or maybe we could simply call that a slaughter, as the plants were taking over dramatically. She struggled and pulled hard, but she was as helpless as Charlie when she had dominated him: the creepers had laid her on her back in front of a tree with her hands tied over her head. Two other lianas were tied around her ankles, and their strength she could not match. Her legs were spread, and a long, needle-like root emerged from the base of the tree and approached her. What was it doing ? She and the tree were totally indifferent to the ambient chaos. What was it doing, it was the only thing she had in mind. The needle arrived at the level of her inner thighs, and seemed a little embarrassed. It poked on her pants several times, and she understood it was trying to cut through the fabric.

_Oh, no ! That's just like in Evil Dead !_

She remembered that, minutes later, it was roughly what she had wanted to do with Charlie. What was wrong with this room, for everyone and everything seemed to want to... but she couldn't let it do ! Her struggles were useless, so she began to scream desperately, as if someone could hear. The root was already cutting a tiny hole.

"Help me ! Please, help me ! God, that tree's trying to..."

A laser shot hit the needle-like root and burnt it off neatly. Other lasers cut the poor girl's ties, and attacked the tree until it stopped moving. Violet sighed, and even began to cry in relief. James appeared and helped her up. He had finally broken free from his cell, and looked fine, except for the melted down sugar that stained his clothes. She embraced him. She had never been so happy to see him than now.

"That was tight," he said. "That's crazy, is that a war zone or a love zone, here ?"

"I don't know, but I don't wanna stay here any longer. Where's Charlie and my mom ?"

"Your mom's stuck on the other side with the soldiers. That's not a pretty sight. As for Charlie, he's on top of a tree, over there. Take this with you, I'm gonna take him back."

He handed her the rifle, which she accepted with relief. She didn't want to be victim of another tree incident ! Snake took out his whip and looked at his objective, the tree, separated from him by a bunch of man-eating flowers and hook candy canes. Okay... he began to run, right to the first flower.

_Impulse._

He dashed beside it, much too fast for it to get him.

_Impulse._

Another dash, and another one. In less than two seconds, he was arrived by the tree and was already swinging is whip to grab a branch.

_Grenade !_

His instinct had felt it perfectly, and he dashed backwards just in time, as the grenade thrown by a scared soldier exploded against the tree... and felled it straight on the wall which collapsed immediately.

"Charlie !"

The mercenary stood up and rushed to the collision point, but the width of the trunk and the numerous rubbles made all access impossible. Charlie was on top of the tree when it fell, which meant he was behind that wall now, and he wasn't answering, Snake couldn't know if he was alive ! He heard a storm of laser shots behind him, and Violet rejoined him.

"Where's Charlie ?"

"He's trapped behind that wall, we can't help him !"

"Oh my God, what are we gonna do ?"

"Got no choice, we've got to leave, if we stay here any longer, we're dead !"

There was a sudden change in the surroundings: without warning, the red light disappeared, and instead, the real lighting was back !

"What ?"

"The power ! The power is back and working !"

A fact which was confirmed by the rush of boiling liquid chocolate in the waterfall. The second later, the river had returned its original rapid flow, exactly the same as in the morning when they took the boat...

"The boat !" Violet suddenly exclaimed.

Snake didn't have time to ask her what she was talking about as she had already used her laser to cut out a large branch from the dead tree. She then proceeded to shoot dead the few monsters that were on the way between them and the river.

"Help me carry this branch ! We can throw it in the river and use it as a boat. If we go all the way down, we'll rejoin the communication passage, and from here, down to Basement 13 !"

"What about Charlie ?"

"I hate to have to say that, but I can't see how we'll save him now. We'll have to come back for him on the way up... if we're still alive."

He didn't have anything to add. She had talked like a real professional, that was surprising. He surprised himself to think that if she were a few years older, she could make an excellent mercenary. They carried the heavy branch to the river. On the other shore, the battle was nearly ended... which meant that the plants were now calmly feeding on the dead bodies of the cops who had come to help them. That was an ugly sight. If only they had lasers instead of usual guns, they could have stood a chance... but how could they know ? The only two soldiers remaining were Mrs Beauregard who looked totally hallucinated, as if she were barely waking up in the middle of a dream, and who was dragging a wounded Lieutenant Roarke to the safest place she could find.

"Mom !" Violet screamed. "Mom ! Get out of here !"

"Violet, thanks God you've survived !" her mother screamed back, after the few seconds that took her to remember about her daughter. "Come, I'm not going without you !"

"No, mom, it's not over yet. You know you can't help us on your own, I want to come with you, but I promised, mom. Get out, and tell the others that if they can come back, Charlie is trapped over there, and we don't know if he's okay."

"And what about you ?"

"Don't worry, Snake will protect me. We'll come back, mom, I swear."

Strange reversal of the situation, where it was now the young child who was comforting the mother. But Violet had seen things her mother wouldn't believe. Within the walls of the Factory, the little girl knew she was stronger than her mother, because she knew what was happening. She and the bodyguard climbed on their improvised boat, and held tight as they gained speed, brought by the flow of the river to the familiar but still anguishing tunnel. They didn't know what to expect now that the power was back on. At least, there was light, but did that mean the traps would come back ? And what about Mike ? All these questions were haunting them as they disappeared in the darkness of the tunnel. They had survived this Bloody Garden ordeal, but they felt the worst was yet to come.

----------

It smelled like fried vegetables. That's all Veruca could think as she rested her head on the yellow lever that saved them and let out a giggle. There hadn't been any explosion, nor fire, nothing that was really impressive. She had just perceived an electric arc, and sparks, when the power came back, then the monster below had let out its highest scream, and that was all. Everything had stopped moving, and that strange green light had faded, to be replaced by the real electric lights. And now, all she could see was a dead, scorched, blackened and smoking vegetation, and it smelled like fried vegetables. The generator was vibrating and purring loudly, and she liked that regular, reassuring noise. Apparently, it had not been damaged in spite of the many destructions that occurred around it. She had brought the power back, and in the meantime, she had finally killed that monster that had tried to eat her... twice in the same day ! Only, she was much too tired to feel any joy or pride. She was just relieved... and she swore she would never eat vegetables again ! Behind her, Wonka was climbing on the platform with some difficulties. They looked at each others, and they smiled weakly, both exhausted and in sweat, simply happy to be alive.

"We made it," she whispered with glee.

"Yeah," he sighed. And she didn't even feel the tip of his cane on her temple as he knocked her out. He then bent down, and gingerly took the unconscious body in his arms. "At last," he sighed, "I finally caught one of them. Welcome to my Hell, Veruca Salt. Don't worry, I'm grateful for what you did, so I won't make your fate that bad... compared to what I have in store for your friends, it'll be nothing for you..."


	25. Back Into Hell

/!\ Content Warning /!\ This chapter and the following ones contain scenes of torture (not graphic, not a Hostel remake, I kept it clean), angst, and hinted child abuse (only hinted). Yeah, me too, I was doubtful of the content, but I think it's still safe when compared to other stories (I'm of course thinking here of the M section). Lots of things to be learned from Wonka's past here, like for example why he keeps wearing gloves...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_  
_

_Veruca..._

The girl frowned in her sleep. She vaguely heard a vague, chanting voice calling her.

_Wakey Wakey !_

The voice grew stronger. More distinct. She tried to open her eyes, but immediately as she did, a blinding white light forced her to shut them back.

_Veruca..._

The voice was perfectly distinct, now. She was awakened. She tried again to open her eyes, this time more slowly to get accustomed with the lighting. It was still very aggressive, and she had to blink several times before she had a clear view on the person looking at her.

"Are we awakened, now ?" Willy Wonka asked gently.

Willy Wonka ! She immediately tried to get up, but she found out she was unable to make a move. Instinctively she tried to jerk away and began to panick, and the next sensation was the cold of steel. She was laid down on her back on a stainless steel table, restrained by solid metal cuffs on her wrists and ankles. Oh, God, what was going on ? All the room was white and bathed in that aggressive neon light, with in a corner of the ceiling a large circular opening where gusts of wind came from, blowing strongly in her ears and cooling off the room which, without this air vent, would be hotter than Hell. Oddly, this room reminded her of the typical look of a morgue in polar movies. But then... it was the examination table she was strapped on ?

"Where am I ?" she shouted, trying not to yield to panic.

There was another man beside Wonka. A tall, skinny and wrinkled guy, with a scarred face looking like a skull, a black suit, a bowl hat and round glasses. A spooky morbid guy.

"Where are you ?" the chocolatier said with utmost cheer. "My dear, this place is my achievement. This place is where no guests may ever enter. You have the honor to share my greatest intimacy in this very place where I get all my creative genius. The Inventing Room is nothing in comparison."

It struck her immediately and cut her breath neat. "My God," she gasped, "this is Basement 13..."

"Exactly ! Well, actually, that is only the surgery, the real basement is much larger than that. Oh, I almost forgot the most basic politeness. May I introduce you to my assistant, who is also and most importantly my mentor and friend, Mr Wilkinson."

The old man bowed a little. She didn't say she was pleased to meet him, that would be a lie.

"What are you gonna do to me ?"

"How, come ! So it's only for you ? Not a word about your friends who are, at this very moment, hanging over a fate you wouldn't envy ?"

"You're lying. My friends are not that stupid, right now they are safe out of here, and soon they'll send the cops after you. You're finished, Wonka."

She had spat out these words like a venom, and Wonka's only reaction was a sarcastic smile.

"Really ? Then I'm sorry to have to disappoint you. Since you turned the power back on, all the systems are slowly but surely getting back on working, and I have aleady received some interesting informations. The cops did come, actually, but they just... didn't last long in the Chocolate Garden. They should've remembered too much candy is bad for the health... as for your friends, I'm afraid you have overestimated them. Oh, no, they're not dead... yet. They won't be of much use dead, I have to keep them alive. But somehow, for a strange motivation - or maybe are they really _that_ stupid - they decided to come back into Hell. As we're talking, they're on their way to the Basement, and needless to say they do not stand a chance. When they're here, they will be mine."

"You're lying !"

"Is that so ? I thought it was obvious... that guy, that... Snake, he was hired to protect you, wasn't he ? With this logic, he will sure refuse to leave the building without you, or he won't get paid and everything he did today will be worthless. Then, the others. They will refuse to let Snake go back in alone, they will want to go with him, because they refuse to get separated again, they want to remain a group, they take all these risks for the sake of an absurd concept, for friendship ! Friendship that makes them blind from danger and that will ultimately cause their demise. And that's how they're all back in, purely and simply. It was just one guy's idea, and the other sheeple followed."

It was like a cold hand that clenched around her heart and squeezed. Of course. It was perfectly logic. If Snake was back in for her, they would all follow.

"You bastard !" she roared. "You stinking sick..."

"Ah, I love it. That's it ! Express yourself ! Let your rage out ! Don't you feel better, now ? You are trying to sound tough, girl, and I have to say you do it pretty good. But I feel something in your voice, that is not anger. It is fear. You don't need to hide it, you are terrified, little girl."

She was quiet, now. Waiting. He continued:

"But you needn't be afraid. Not now, it's much too late. There's nothing you can do anymore but let what has to happen, happen. Now..."

He came very close and reached out. She squealed and instinctively tried to withdraw, quite uselessly for she was solidly tied. But he didn't go for her. He turned on a small, black box that looked like a modem, which was displayed on a small shelf over her head. The box emitted an electronic whistle as it was activated, and then Veruca felt like two stickers being stuck on her temples.

"What's that ?"

"Electrodes. I just need a few things from your little brain."

She felt a slight vibration, but it didn't hurt. It didn't make her feel any better, though.

"Now, to answer your question, I have big projects for each one of you. You will all be part of a huge project I've been driving for years, actually the project of my lifetime, the very reason that made me become a chocolatier."

"What is this project ?"

"You don't need to know. You just need to know that each one of you bears in himself a special ingredient that can make wonderful candies if extracted and cooked properly."

"So you give pleasure to kids out of the suffering of other kids ? That is fucking wicked !"

"There are just some kids who deserve pleasure, and others who need to be sacrificed for the cause. Just think of how many wonderful recipes I can create with you five. Charlie's heart can make the sweetest chocolate ever. Violet's skin will be tastier than all the blueberries in the world. And your inner sour taste will be most perfect for a new recipe of bitter chocolate. I know, I forgot some of you. Actually, I originally planned to use Augustus for research about a new form of enriched fat that would progressively overcome traditional cocoa butter, thus reducing production costs with minimal loss of quality. What do you want, I'm a businessman first of all. As for Snake, he wasn't invited to the party in the first place, but I'll sure find something for him."

"And what about Mike ?"

"No, this little boy's brain is much too precious to me. I need him, as a new form of intelligence, a real human intelligence into a computer, to make the most powerful computer in the world. I need such a power for the greater part of the project. Therefore, by infiltrating the system he did exactly what he was expected to do since the beginning."

She didn't ask what greater project he was talking about, for she knew he would still not answer. Instead, she just sighed out of profound sadness, the kind of sadness you would feel when you realize everything you've done so far was just so worthless, so trivial. Everything you've done so far was just...

"For chocolate," she whispered with her voice choked in sobs, "all of this was just for chocolate. This is absurd... all of this makes no sense at all. It must be a nightmare..."

The chocolatier gave her a sharp pinch in response.

"Ouch ! Why did you do that ?"

"To prove you're not dreaming. Now, my dear, we just have to wait for your friends. Shall we begin ?"

Coldness. Stiffness. And an incredible need to pee. It was like all her blood was going down to her stomach.

"Begin _what_ ?" her voice trembled.

Willy Wonka searched on a sort of steel tray and produced a small pipe bent at one end, and equipped with a wheel. She stopped breathing. A blowtorch !

"You see," he explained as he turned it on, creating a stiff, purring blue flame, "it seems that the only way to extract the desired sour flavor out of a rotten child is by... roasting. Is everything working ?"

"It is," replied the old man as he finished check several machines she had no clue what these were for.

"Are you gonna burn me with that torch ?"

"Well, that is the method used a few years ago, but it really smells revolting. Today, thanks to my assistant Mr Wilkinson, we have some more modern methods. But, since you are our guest, I think you must be given the privilege to choose. So, the torch, or the other method ?"

"What the Hell ! How do you want me to answer to that ! This is just plain mean !"

"Wrong answer, try again !"

She immediately yelled in distress as the flame passed over her bare legs, high and fast enough to provoke nothing more than a slight redness on her skin and a very sudden heat, almost painless. But the fright she felt could largely compensate for the lack of pain. And the humiliation, too. It was terribly embarrassing to be at his mercy like that. She who was used to being a little princess was now reduced to a guinea pig. She began to cry.

"Hurry up, I want an answer..." the flame passed again, lower and slower. This time, she felt the burn, and for a second a scorched smell spread into the room before the air got cleaned by the huge vent.

"Stop !" she gasped, totally out of her mind. "Please ! Stop it ! I can't believe you're so cruel ! I can't choose, how could I !"

"Come on, it can't be so difficult. Just say this, or the other."

He passed a third time. It was always calculated to bring pain without inflicting any damage on her skin, except for a redness, like a sunburn. Whatever was the other choice, she decided it couldn't be worse.

"The other !"

To her relief, the torch stopped and her tormentor tossed it away.

"Excellent choice... Mr Wilkinson ?"

The assistant obliged and moved to a console. He pushed a few buttons and turned a small knurl, like a volume control. A soft electric purring could be heard.

"What's this ?"

Immediately then, the surgeon pushed a large red button and the little girl shrieked in agony as her body was tensed, shaken and burnt by the invisible but continuous and cruel electric current that ran through the rack. The pain reached an intensity she had never, ever imagined could even exist. She screamed till she ran out of air, but her throat and lungs were over-contracted under the electric shock, and paralyzed. She clenched her teeth, and already, beyond the suffering she began to experience the dizziness that was the first sign of suffocation.

Then, the machine stopped, and Veruca felt all her muscles relax at the same time, as the air came back into her chest so abruptly she coughed helplessly, and the coughs turned into a mix of sobbing and hiccups. She was strengthless, both physically and mentally. She barely had the force to breathe, as her sweating face turned pale as ivory and her limbs had uncontrolled aftershock spasms. She felt a warm liquid in her hands, and she realized she had tightened her fists so hard during the torture she made her palms bleed.

"You are a monster," she moaned weakly. "And I thought you were a genius..."

"Come on, you can't be so weak already, we've barely begun ! That was the minimum power, here. To extract the sour flavor from you, the procedure is to slowly increase the power, until you begin to bake inside. It will take hours, but slowly, your blood will boil, fat will turn to oil and ultimately, your skin will practically evaporate. But don't worry, you will be dead long before you turn all liquid. You were of a great help against the monster up there, so I'll thank you by making your ordeal the shortest. Ain't I sweet ?"

No answer.

"Fine. Judging by your silence, I guess you are ready to continue. Increase the power !"

Veruca stiffened and braced herself, gathering her meagre forces to withstand the nightmare that would start again. Now.

----------

Charlie didn't know where he was. Was he even somewhere ? Hard to tell, when he had no sensation at all. It was pitch dark, and he didn't even feel his own body, as if he were floating in space. Was he dead ? Likely so. He remembered the tree that fell and crashed against the wall. Right after, he was floating in the black space. He may not have survived at all. So that was how death looked like ? Not that great. He expected cotton-like clouds and angels playing harps, or at least a cave with a pool of fire and a sneering goat-faced giant. But, no, there was only the black space, devoid of all sensations except for that mechanic murmur. Wait. What was that mechanic sound doing here in the first place ? A breeze caressed his cheek. What the !

He opened his eyes. He was not dead at all. What a dumb he was ! The place he was in was a dimly lit corridor, with pipes running on the ceiling and protected by a grid, the kind of corridor you have in a factory - in a _real _factory. No, he was definitely still in the real world, but the floating sensation didn't stop. Looking down, he saw that it was only because he was indeed floating, his feet a few inches over the floor, like in the Fizzy Drink Room.

"Damn !"

And as soon as he realized that, it stopped immediately and he fell down rather heavily. He stood back up, but he wasn't flying again. How did he do that ? Some kind of remaining effect from the Lifting Drink ? Nevermind, the most important was to know where he was and find his friends back. The memories of the latest events were kind of blurry. He vaguely remembered something about Violet, and also about soldiers and carnivore plants. And there was Violet's mom too. That made no sense at all ! The only thing that was still clear was the tree. He turned round. The wall behind him was shattered into big piles of rubbles, with a large remain of the fallen candy tree lying in the middle. He concluded that the Chocolate Room was right there, behind the large trunk. He began to climb up the rubbles and tried to pass, but there didn't seem to be any way through.

"Is there anyone over there ?" he called, but no answer came. Fine. He turned back again and looked at the corridor. Since there didn't seem to be any other way...

The noise was getting stronger as he progressed in the hallway, and when he reached the end, he started back, surprised and impressed: he had visited much less open spaces than the others, and therefore he was still not used to the real hugeness of the facility: he was standing on a cornice overhanging a space that didn't seem to have a floor or a ceiling. Out of the darkness only came a web of conveyor belts running in every directions, all carrying chocolate bars. There were different kinds of robots performing different kinds of tasks on the belts, like workers in his father's former factory. Some would pour delicious-looking melted chocolate into moulds that were then put under a press to be turned into solid bars. Some other would then wrap them in their papers and send them through a vertiginous course of lifts, turnstiles and even parachutes, to a place below where they were gathered in cardboard boxes and sent... God knows where. And this huge merry-go-round was going on and on, fast, uninterrupted, coming in and out of every direction at a time until the little boy felt like sea-sick where there was not even any sea. The distribution facility, he guessed, or conditioning area, or whatever name it bore, it was the place where the chocolate was packaged and sent outside. He remembered the map folded in his pocket and gave it a look. That was it: Conditioning & Distribution Area. He examined the map carefully and concluded that, since the corridor he came from was blocked by the fallen wall, the best way to go back to the main facility was to pass through the conveyor belts zone. He just had to be careful as to where he would go, cause there were dozens of possible ways. Let's move on. He walked along his cornice until he found a ladder that brought him to the inferior level. From here, he jumped on a conveyor belt, between two massive cast iron moulds, and hoped he wouldn't get lost into this impossible maze.

----------

"Oh, damned..." Violet moaned as she weakly stood on her feet. She gave a look at Snake, beside her, still lying on the metallic platform. "You'll be doing alright ?"

"I guess... I thought I was used to extreme sensations, but riding down the Chocolate River on that trunk, that was... waw..."

He stood up too. They were on a bridge over a very large open container, large as a lake and surely as deep. This container was the very end of the Chocolate River, and therefore there was a constant roaring chocolate waterfall falling inside. When the two kids had taken the trunk as a raft, they had done all the way down the river, going as fast as a hundred miles per hour where the stream was most violent. But that's the landing that was the hardest, and Violet had to use the best of her surfing skills for them to land safely on the bridge. Her exploit had been so incredible that she was still trembling of it.

"By the way," James said, "your surfing was superb."

"Thanks... I learned to surf in summer camp in Florida."

"Is there a single sport in this world that you have not tried yet ?"

She thought for a few seconds.

"Russian roulette, I guess."

They both sniggered.

"But what really happened up there, I'd like to know. That was weird, and creepy. I remember I was after Charlie, don't know why, and then the plants came to life, and it seemed like everything wanted to... you-know-what. And that tree, I mean, what the fuck, a tree trying to... fuck ?"

"Endorphins."

"What ?"

"I think the machine I destroyed with my rocket before we got to the Chocolate Room had something to do with hormone control. I'm not an expert, but I guess that the garden was created by growing new species of real, living candy plants. You get the point ?"

"I guess..."

"Yeah, that's very _Jurassic Park_-like. So, there had to be a machine meant to control the hormonal activity of those plants, preventing them from waking up. When the machine was destroyed, high quantities of endorphins were released in the air."

"And as we all know, endorphins give us the feeling of being in love. There was so much it turned us all insane, and brought the plants to life."

"Exactly. Good conclusion."

"But how did you find out about all of that ?"

"Jessy told me, but you don't have to believe it."

"Okay, so candy plants suddenly come to life, and you receive informations from a girl who's not even here. Sounds like a really bad fanfiction..."

"Okay, if you really want an answer, I smelled the endorphins. All the rest was theory. Now, we'd better focus on the most important: where are we, how to get to Basement 13, and when will I get my hands on those two hundred thousand pounds ?"

"Well I can't answer the last question, but I remember Mike mentioned this container was situated at the level of Basement 6. So we must be half-way through already..."

They gave a look around: the last time they used the communication passage, it was dark and dormant, but since the power was back on, all the machines were back on working in a joyful din, and the area was heavily lit by flashy white lamps that allowed the kids a wide view on the place, though most of the walls were still too far to be seen, and the ceiling was just barely visible. On their right they could see a serie of vertical rails displayed in a large square and going all the way down. Violet bent over the barrier to see the very bottom. In spite of the heavy lighting below, it was hardly more visible than the ceiling, but she guessed a lot of activity. A gust of wind suddenly came from under and messed with her hair.

"Wow, there's so much energy in here ! Looks like it's running ten times faster than before. Is it because of the restart ?"

"Possibly. Should ask Mike."

"Hey, wait a minute ! Sure, now the power's back, Mike should be able to hear us ! Mike ?" she cried out loud.

"I hear you," the bodiless voice answered clearly. It felt so good to hear him again ! "How are you doing ? You look terrible..."

"You couldn't believe what happened up there..."

"I guess you got a little hot, Violet. Very nice tank top."

"No comments, please ! Can you see us ?"

"Yes. The blackout had all the program restarted, so I have to go all the way up the system again, but I gained control of a few cameras. That's a good start."

"Okay. Veruca got kidnapped, and we're heading down to Basement 13 to get her back. We've lost Charlie, do you know where he is ?"

"Yes. I see him. He's fine, but he looks lost. He's moving towards the mansion on the surface, but there's no speaker at his level, I can't call him."

"Any info on Basement 13 ?"

"Nothing, but I can show you the way. The square structure on your right is the elevator pit. Just follow it all the way down to Basement 12, and there, you'll just have to look for a... service access or something, I can't get clear infos."

"Can you send us an elevator ?"

"There's no elevator working on the network for the moment, sorry. There's actually nothing else I can do in this current state."

"Okay, thanks anyway. We'll do by ourselves."

"Call you for updates. Good luck."

The voice went dead. The blue girl sighed.

"Okay, then let's get going." She glanced at the laser rifle at their feet. The only one left. "Wanna take it ?"

"You'd better have it," the mercenary answered as he took out his whip. "I'm not a fan of these guns, too impredictible."

She then took it and began to examine it. "Is there a rocket left in this one, or was it the other ? I just can't remember, it was so confused up there..."

"Well don't try, I don't wanna get blown away by our own weapons."

"Too true..."

She tied the gun on her back and they walked the bridge towards the cage-like structure of the elevator pit. There didn't seem to be any way to reach it, instead they could just follow its direction and began to climb down a long ladder. The wind was strong and warm during their descent, giving them the impression to be on a seashore. Violet noticed that, in spite of the white lighting and colorful design of the machines surrounding them, they were bathed in a bizarre pale, electric blue shade. She quickly understood where it came from: giving several looks around, she could see several strange-looking machines composed of large transparent spheric globes inside of which were evolving series of bright blue electric beams, going from the center to the extremeties of the globes with slow, snake-like movements. Like oversized plasma lamps, and those devices were to be found at different corners and levels in the area.

"What's all that for ?" she asked.

"I have no idea. Perhaps it's just for the show..."

"Could it, like, charge batteries or something ?"

"Yeah, maybe..."

After an infinite descent, they finally reached the end of the ladder, to arrive on a platform where a painting on the wall informed them they had reached Basement 7. Still a long way to go... after a quick look, they concluded that the nearest ladder they should take to continue was on a cornice on the side of a structure that looked like a big cornetto ice-cream, connected to their platform by a bridge. They followed it.

"Hey," Snake asked, "don't you hear some kind of buzz ?"

"No, don't hear anything. A buzz, you say ?"

"Yeah... like some kind of big fly. It's getting louder..."

They had almost reached the cornice when...

_Tsssshhhhhh !_

The buzz was replaced by a loud laser hiss, followed by an explosion of sparks right under their feet. The kids startled and instinctively knelt down for protection, but at this moment the bridge gave way.

"Aaaaah !"

Violet lost balance and fell into space, but the gloved hand of her companion - who had managed to grip to the edge of the cornice - reached out at lightning speed and grabbed her wrist at the last moment. They then pulled themselves up on the cornice, just beside the "cornetto machine". Violet's blue face, that was still almost indigo a few moments before, was now so livid it was nearly white.

"You okay ?"

"I think I'll get used," she said, panting. "After all, that's already the third time we're hanging over a sheer drop." She gave a look at the smoking empty space where the bridge used to be. "Why did it explode ?"

"I haven't seen it coming, but it was like a laser. I wonder, now the power's back, maybe..."

They began to notice that the fly buzz they heard before the accident had not vanished. It seemed to come from above.

"Things... have been... restart..."

They slowly raised their heads as he spoke. Yes indeed, things had been restarted. And one of these things was right there, hovering over them, vicious looking and armed to the teeth. The FlyBots were back.

----------

The electric shock stopped, and Veruca could breathe again. She had almost passed out this time, and now she didn't have the force to keep crying. Her body was nothing more than a cocoon of pain. Wonka could even take off the cuffs if he wanted, because her arms and legs were nearly paralyzed. And, that was unbelievable, but she was smoking, for the shock had turned her sweat into steam.

"Hmm, smells like roasted chicken," the chocolatier whispered with delight. "Oh, I guess what you're wondering about, but don't worry, we're far from done yet. Serious damage won't occur before a few hours."

He didn't really expect a reaction, or if he did, he certainly did not expect this one: broken and helpless, the girl still found the strength to sneer. For a second, it seemed like she had become back the nasty spoiled brat he spent all day trying to destroy. This caught him completely by surprise.

"What's so funny ?"

"That's pathetic. You are pathetic. You think you're going to get away with that ? So what, you'll kill me, and then ? You can't hide in this basement forever. Sooner or later, the cops will break in and get you. You'll be judged and thrown in prison, and all your business will be taken away from you. You've wasted your whole life just for the pleasure of killing children. How lame. And I'm not mentioning the worst case. My father is rich and powerful, he knows a lot of people. The mafia. He hired a mercenary, he can hire others. Tons of others. He will have you killed for what you did to me ! You're dead, Wonka, DEAD !"

He sighed. "Yes, perhaps you are right... hearing you, it sounds like a desperate situation for me..."

A glimpse of hope passed in the girl's eyes. "But there can be a way, Mr Wonka. If you surrender now and let us go, I will tell them to be kinder. That's the bargain. It's up to you."

This time, it was his turn to burst in laughter. "Little girl, come on ! Do you think I have not considered these matters yet ? On the contrary, everything was planned ! Originally, you were supposed to fall in a serie of sad accidents, like drowning in the river or getting attacked by rabid squirrels. Of course, your parents would get very sad and very upset, there would be an investigation and a trial, leading to the conclusion that these accidents were a pitiful hazard. I would give away the necessary sums of money to be proven innocent, and after a few months, everything would be forgotten, everyone would've believed you dead and I would pursue my task without problems. But, well, it didn't exactly happened this way, and now there's a whole mess outside, a siege, and they're all after me... I just have the second plan left: I blow everything up, and officially, Willy Wonka and his hostages died in the explosion of the Factory. I take you away, change my name, and resume everything in another facility, in another country. Both ways I win, and you, well, you are just... my pets. My guinea pigs."

"So you're ready to abandon your Factory just for us ? And I thought you were crazy, but actually, you're merely beyond insane !"

The candyman's face suddenly grew somber, and Veruca couldn't help but feel a slight enjoyment as she realized she had hit a sensitive spot.

"This Factory is all my life," he said. "This is my paradise, my sanctuary. I created this world from what I believe the world should be. In a sense, this place is not realistic when compared to the critera of the outside, but it is actually more _real_. For this is the place everyone dreams of. So many years I've spent selling dreams, yet I couldn't appease the nightmare of life. It is now time to show the world _my _nightmare, the worst ever, for after the storm comes the sun, and when the nightmare is over, the world will be in peace again. This is a noble purpose, and even if simply thinking of destroying my Factory tears me apart, I am ready to do it."

"So, you think you're gonna save the world by making it a living Hell ? Whatever, I think you can't be reasoned anyway. But I got a question: why us ? Why this contest, why did you take so many risks, to kidnap five children as the whole world is watching you ? It could have been much easier for you, with five random kids. Please, answer this one question: why did you choose us ?"

"Well, I think you deserve a little explanation, after all it was such a long and hard way to get here... some years ago, when I began experimenting, my first subjects were children I took from the Third World. They were perfect for me, because they were the kids nobody would ever come to rescue. After all, their original countries were too preoccupied by their own problems - hunger, wars, all the stuff - and the rich Western countries were much too self-centered, too egoist, to mind the disappearance of a bunch of poor children. I could continue this traffic for years, for years I used them to create the most dangerously delicious candies ever, and develop my production until I created this very place. But that was not over yet. No matter how many rotten candies I sold, that was only the superficial part of a plan I have been thinking of since I was ten years old. To achieve this plan, I needed something else from children. Something precious, unique."

"What's this ?"

"Their emotions. I need children's emotions. But no matter how hard I tried, I never obtained a satisfying result. Then, as time passed, I finally understood, that what I really need are the worst of the worst children ever. I need the darkest thoughts, the sheerest hate, from the meanest, brattest children in the world. I need Pride, Greed, Gluttony, Wrath, Sloth, Envy... but such children, able to contain so many sinful characteristics in their personality, were close to impossible to find. I began to despair... that is when I got the idea of the Contest. Five Golden Tickets, spread all over the world, allowing only five children in the world to enter my Factory and obtain a lifetime supply of chocolate along with a marvelous prize that would go far beyond anything they could ever imagine. I knew I would trigger one of the world's most heated competition, so heated that in comparison, the SuperBowl and the FIFA World Cup altogether are nothing more than a schoolyard game."

"Oh, no... my God..."

"Do you begin to understand ?"

"Yes, you knew that, with such a contest, only the most horrible, the most spoiled children could win, and that's what you were looking for. And that's what happened."

"Violet Beauregard, overcompetitive schoolyard bully, with a taste for humiliating the weaker; Augustus Gloop, whose stomach size is inversely proportional to his IQ, only living to satisfy his lowest instinct, the desire for food; Mike Teavee, lazy and arrogant mastermind, he is the brain where Violet is the muscles, but they're both the same in character; and last but not least, Veruca Salt, a crybaby, incapable, spoiled and cherished like a princess, ignorant, stupid, with an incredibly huge potential for guiltless mean spirit. Yes, the four of you were exactly what I was looking for. And I should even thank you for bringing your valet with you. I mean, someone who manages to be psychotic, alcoholic and insanely obsessed with his ex-girlfriend at only thirteen, it's priceless !"

"And what about Charlie ? What has he got to do in all of this ?"

"Charlie ? Oh, well. We all do mistakes. I wanted to attract only spoiled brats, Charlie is just, like... the exception that confirms the rule. But I can't let him live. I will sure need him, a child so pure. I was thinking of making him, like, a heir."

"A heir ?"

"Well, yes. When I'm finished with him, I will revive him using cybernetic technology, and put my own mind in him. I cannot live forever, neither can Mr Wilkinson, and I need someone to take over. Mike will be a great tool in my plan, but he is too instable. Charlie is intelligent and naïve. He could easily become... Wonka 2.0..."

"You lunatic ! Charlie is much more courageous than you believe he is. He is stronger than me, he is stronger than you ! And you'd better be away before he comes to save me, or he will get you."

Wonka grinned. This foolish and childish "knight-in-shiny-armor" expectation amused him greatly. What he didn't actually know was how close she was to the truth...

----------

The conveyor belt was a real assault course for the young boy, who constantly had to dodge pipes that would pour the chocolate in the moulds and play leapfrog with the fans that were supposed to cool off the bars-in-making and make them solid. One second of inattention, and he could get bumped out of the belt, which at this height meant a certain death. In front of him there was now a massive press that went up and down to give the chocolate its final shape. Charlie waited the last moment...

The press went up... then down, now ! The boy jumped on it and gripped to its side, but unable to withstand the vibrations of the machine, he dropped it and fell into space, only to be saved by a lift a few meters below. Waw ! He climbed on a new belt, but this one would end in a pit where the bars would get carried by an army of little mushroom-like parachutes. He was too heavy to use a parachute, he had to find another way. He began to run opposite to the belt to gain some time, but he was unstoppably going into the pit. The next belt was too far to jump on. But maybe... he closed his eyes and tried to focus. He remembered how he used the Lifting Drink to fly into the air vent. He remembered how he was unconsciously hovering in the corridor. Even when he wasn't flying, he felt incredibly light after drinking the magic soda, and he still did. The effects of the Fizzy Lifting Drink were still in him. He jumped.

It felt like he was jumping on a cushion of air, as his body, instead of falling, was getting higher and higher, until he eventually landed smoothly on the other belt. That was one Hell of a superleap ! But in his excitement, he didn't notice his new belt was ending exactly like the previous one: in a pit !

_AAAaaaaaaaaaah !_

He yelled in terror as he fell out of control. Around him, he could see the parade of small parachutes going up at a high speed, but _they_ were not actually going up, _he_ was going down faster than them ! Then suddenly, things were reverted: as he still had the sensation of falling, the parachutes were suddenly going down, faster and faster, and they disappeared below him. Then, he saw the conveyor belts themselves that went down. And then, a cornice he had not noticed before, a cornice that was much higher than he was when he entered the place. The "falling" stopped and he landed on that cornice. He looked behind to see nothing had actually fallen down, everything was still in place and running. He had just flown all the way here. But where was he now ? He left the cornice to enter a bright yellow hallway that ended with a single, luxury wooden door, like a castle's door. On the wall, there was written:

_Production Chain Entrance, Level 1._

No, he wasn't dreaming. It was definitely written Level 1. Not Basement 1, but Level 1. That could mean only one thing: he had made it to the upper part of the building, and he was about to enter the unvisited mansion of the Chocolate Factory.

He pushed the wooden door, it opened smoothly, without a creak. Charlie found himself inside a room of average size, a study, with desks, bookshelves, a large couch, a personal computer... plain room as he saw often, on TV. Of course they didn't have that kind of room in his house. But although it seemed totally normal, something was terribly wrong with it. The decoration was simply an insult to good taste, even by his low standards. The floor was green, and the walls were painted black, with large double-helix figures painted over in a bright, flashy pink color that made his eyes ache. And there was no ceiling, instead the walls would just bend over, forming an arch over his head, like in a cathedral. And there were also pink helices up there. Looking too much at these made him want to throw up. He wanted to get out. He took the door opposite the one he came from and arrived in a long and aggressively colorful gallery. Here, the floor was blood-red and the walls bright yellow with turquoise bubble motives. The ceiling, very high above his head, was shaped in ribbed vaults, exactly like in a cathedral, and actually, the whole place had the grandiose, distorted, Gothic form of a cathedral, except that the colors simply ignored every aesthetic considerations, and even common sense. Usually, a colorful room has a joyful mood, but here, it was simply too much, it only managed to be creepy.

There was a good number of identical doors, bearing no indication whatsoever, on each wall, and a square of light at the end of the hallway, so far away that it didn't appear bigger than a dice. Okay, where to go ? Once again, he took out his map, and mentally thanked the Oompa Loompa again for allowing him to find it. He remembered what he was supposed to look for: the secret passage that would link the mansion directly to Basement 13. According to the map, the passage could only be accessed via Willy Wonka's office, at the top of the building... which comprised seven floors, and he was on the first one. The nearest staircase was in the direction of the square of light, at the end of the gallery. Okay. He folded the map back in his pocket. En route !

----------

"Think we lost it ?" Violet asked.

"Sure hope so..."

At least, the FlyBot wasn't shooting anymore, but the buzz of its reactors could still be heard from their position. They had rushed undercover to escape it, without really thinking of where they were going. And now, they were pretty uncomfortable, huddled in a space no larger than a closet, squeezed between steel scaffoldings in the middle of a group of large cone-shaped machines. In there, they had barely enough light to see each others' faces, though they were stuck together so tight in that small space that trying to look at each others was unnecessary. They didn't move. They couldn't see the FlyBot from here, for it was hovering outside of the group of machines, but they were positive they were out of reach. They waited, and eventually they heard its buzz fading away. It was gone. They sighed.

"Violet, could you just... move a little ?"

"I'd like to if we were not squeezed so tight, figure it out."

"Sure, but you got your knee on my..."

"Your what ?"

"You know perfectly what I'm talking about."

"Well, for your information, you got your hand on my chest and it's pretty embarrassing, but I bear with it, so don't complain."

"Yes, but here, it hurts."

"Oh, yeah ? How about this ?"

And without a warning, she swiftly moved her knee to dig it further in... you know what I'm talking about. He groaned.

"That's a very bitchy move, you know..."

"Let's keep the fight for another time and focus on getting out, okay ? I think we can go safely, now."

With lots of effort, they managed to crawl out of the scaffoldings and arrive back on a bridge, in the light, outside of the machines group.

"Phew, I sure hope it's not coming again !"

"Yep, but we've lost a lot of time and we still have a long way to go, so we'd... better..."

He didn't finish. The buzz was coming. Louder and clearer. And the Bot suddenly appeared in the air in front of them. Uh-oh...

Violet raised her hands as a sign of surrender, and giggled foolishly. "Hey hey, Mr Flying Machine, you're not gonna be too nasty, are you ? We're just passing by..."

She gave it her best smile, and at the least expected moment, she drew the rifle and practically gave it a shower of laser shots before it had time even to realize what was going on. Actually, even Snake had not seen it coming. She had caught them both totally unaware. The robot exploded in a cloud of sparks and smoke. Violet raised her hand as a sign of victory.

"Yes !" she shouted. "You fuck with me, you're fucking with the best !"

Under her companion's surprised look, she then began a showing-off dance, like a football player. But the dance didn't last long, for a few seconds later, in a deafening rush of reactors, it was not one, not two, but five new FlyBots that appeared in front of them, their guns pointed at their heads.

"Uh, okay..." she hesitated, suddenly much, much less enthusiastic. "What do we do, now ?"

"We fly."

"What ?"

Just at this moment, the robots shot.

_Impulse !_

Before she could actually see him move, Violet had Snake's arm tightened around her waist, and he jumped out of the bridge, bringing her along. They had dodged the lasers, but now they were falling ! She shrieked uncontrolled, as the Snake took out his long whip and lashed at a steel pipe, gripping to it like a grapnel, à la Batman. They dangled in the air and Violet regained her wits when they landed safely on the top of a red and yellow marquee-like machine. She was overly angry, and aimed at the five robots that were coming in their direction. They couldn't fight them all five with a single laser, but she had an ace in her sleeve...

"This time," she roared, "I'm gonna nuke them all !"

She pushed the red button to launch the rocket. Nothing happened. Finally, the one gun with the rocket was the _other_ gun...

----------

The hallway was smaller. That's what Charlie kept telling himself as he walked on. At first, it was just an impression, or so it seemed. After all, a place as big as a cathedral can go smaller, and you wouldn't notice anything. But as it went on, it became obvious. The walls were narrower at each step. The ceiling was getting lower and lower, and now, if he raised his head, he could see some details he wouldn't have seen earlier. And even the floor felt under his feet as if it was going in a soft upward slope. Only, when he looked, he saw no slope, the floor and the walls were as straight as before, but against all odds, it kept going smaller. It was insane, like a reversed optical illusion: instead of seeing things he couldn't feel, he felt things he couldn't see. He had a chill. He really didn't like that place at all !

Finally, when he reached the end, the gallery was reduced to barely large enough for him, and he even had to bend down to pass. The new room he just entered was more of gigantic proportions, and it consisted of a great hall of uniformly light blue color, with a great, palace staircase which shiny balustrades reflected the pleasant sunlight. Wait a minute. According to the amount of time they spent inside, it was supposed to be night already, so why was there daylight ? Simply, he found, because there was no window, no door, not the slightest opening to the outside. And as he observed more attentively, there were no lamps either, nothing that could produce any light, so where the Hell did it come from ? In his observation, he found himself facing the gallery by which he entered, only this time, the tiny entrance was no more and instead, the gallery was equally large, not getting any smaller or larger, just... normal. What was this mansion made of, exactly ? Somehow, even though there was no danger, it managed to be as creepy as the Factory. Perhaps it was precisely because of the lack of danger. At least, he knew what to expect, down there. Whereas here, everything was twisted and impredictible.

No ! Don't think that way, or you_ will _get lost ! Follow the map. That's it. Just follow the map, and everything will be okay. He had to continue up. He took the large stairway and began to mount, when a loud vibration brought him to his knees. Earthquake ! He crouched in a foetal position and braced himself, but the vibration stopped after a few seconds. That's all ? he thought as he stood back. That was a strange earthquake... or maybe it was not an earthquake at all... whatever ! Keep going ! That's it, keep going...

----------

The deadly beams of light kept crashing around the two courageous kids as they were running like mad, working solely on their own instinct, jumping from a cornice to a bridge and from a bridge to another. They didn't care they were jumping over lethal heights, for their survival instinct had temporarily made them forget vertigo. Besides, falling down and breaking one's skull on the floor seemed to them like a sweeter death than being fried like KFCs on a laser. The five FlyBots were tailing them tight and seemed more accurate at each shot. They finally found a temporary refuge behind a small red pyramid, where they knelt down, exhausted. They had a few seconds before the Bots found them and continued the hunt.

"_Grechikah_ !" Snake shouted. "If these things were people, they'd be dead already !"

"You cuss in Russian, now ?"

"No time to joke, Violet. We got some serious business, here."

"Sorry. Have an idea ?"

The mercenary risked a look around. There was a cluster of those huge plasma lamps on a platform opposite them, too far to be reached. There was a ladder, this one much longer than the others, going several basements down, very close to them, but they would be too vulnerable if they took it. They had to get rid of the Bots first ! Against the only wall of the room they could see, there was also a firehose protected by a glass. Could be... no, it was too far away. But there were a few white domes surrounded by a whole network of scaffoldings between them and the hose. If only he could...

"Violet, can you distract them ?"

"What ?"

"I'm gonna draw their attention here. You keep them busy, and give me a few minutes. I have a plan. Can you do that ?"

"I guess. But be quick, okay ?"

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, like two militaries would do before a fight.

"See ya !"

He cracked his whip high up in the air, and immediately then, the Bots were coming, attracted by the noise. The mercenary jumped out of the shelter and again used his weapon as a grapnel to grip to the scaffoldings. Behind him, the hisses and bangs of rapid laser fires invaded the space. She wouldn't last long, he had to hurry !

_Impulse !_

Jump, dive, grip, lash, climb ! Within a few very intense seconds, he was arrived in front of the hose.

"Help !"

He turned round: Violet was lying on top of a dome, surrounded by the Bots. She wasn't hurt, but a shot too close to her had made her lose balance. Quick ! He broke the glass, grabbed the hose, took aim, and shot. A white spear of high-pressured water rushed out of the pipe and hit a FlyBot right in the nose, if you believe robots actually have a nose. The enemy was practically propelled backwards and, disoriented, it made a few uncontrolled loops before it crashed down in a cloud of sparks. The four machines remaining were smarter and abandoned their hovering position to fly away from the danger and come back to counterattack. Violet withdrew from her dome and went to hide under it. Now it was between the Bots and him. He shot and shot again, but the machines were fast to avoid the beams of water. Laser responses came to crash on the walls beside him. That was tight.

Eventually, he shot one of his aggressors that flew back and went straight into the cluster of plasma lamps. Oh, no !

He knew what was coming and immediately dropped his hose to dive into the scaffoldings, searching for a shelter. The Bot hit the plasma lamps, and the gas mixed with the kerosene mixed with all the electric energy triggered an intensely explosive reaction, a wave of radioactive blue flames that, though they only lasted half a second, devored everything in their path.

When the normal lights came back, Snake ascertained with quite a relief that he was unharmed... but half of his scaffoldings had melted down. He climbed up a little, to have a view on the explosion site. All the FlyBots had vanished in the air as if they had never existed. The red pyramid was decapitated, along with the domes and most of the other structures at this level. Oh, and the place where the plasma lamps used to be was like a big black hole, for everything in a range of a dozen meters around it was properly anihilated.

He saw the blue girl get out of her shelter and climb back on what remained of the dome. He rejoined her.

"Damn !" she exclaimed. "What did he put in those lamps ?"

"Don't think it was ordinary gas..."

"Yeah, by the way..." she held up her rifle. "Next time we're in trouble, let's just use this, it's a lot safer."

"I don't think we'll meet other Bots here. I hope so. Let's move on." He waved his hand at his left. "I saw a ladder in this way. We're almost arrived."

----------

This one was cyan and bright green. Charlie considered with despair that the colors were the only difference between all the hallways he had passed through, beside that they all looked alike, with one door in front, one door behind, and several rows of doors on the side walls. He didn't know how many hallways he had already crossed, he stopped counting after he reached the first dozen. And he also considered that the taste in colors was just not improving the slightest. It was terribly depressing to leave a corridor just to enter another, uglier than the previous one. In all that, he couldn't even find his position on the map. Oh, yes, he was lost.

Yuk, portraits of clowns ! He just noticed them, there was a portrait between each doors, on the walls, and they were all watching him with their static, horribly stupid and somewhat gloomy smiles. Bad taste was at its summum. How could anyone like clowns, he couldn't understand. Clowns were creatures of Hell, nothing less and nothing more. He began to walk past the portraits, and it made him nervous. He felt like being watched and he had a creepy-crawly feeling on his back. He'd better find the way out quickly. The door at the end of the corridor. There was sort of a golden plate over it. He was a little too far to read it properly, but he concentrated and distinguished the word "EXIT". EXIT !

He immediately ran to it, now confident he had found the next stairway. But the door wasn't coming any closer. On the contrary, the more he ran, the more it seemed to farther away, always keeping itself out of reach. It was as if the corridor was stretching out as fast as he ran to prevent him from leaving ! Impossible ! He finally stopped, out of breath. When he looked behind him, the hallway was perfectly normal. It was as if he had never left his position. His mind was playing tricks, damn ! He didn't hold back and shouted an insanity. It was immediately answered by several sniggers.

He turned his head rapidly, surprised, in every directions. The clowns were still and lifeless, like before, in their portraits. But he had just _heard _them laugh ! Oh, gawd, he was really going cuckoo !

Another earthquake pulled him out of his torpor. And another. And another one. It was getting stronger every time. What Charlie found very odd was that each shock only lasted less than a second, and the rythm was very regular, like a walk. But what could walk so heavily ? Sounded like the steps of a dinosaur ! Was it another kind of monster ? Oh, no, and it was getting closer ! The boy immediately reacted and ran through the nearest door. Okay, now... wait, where was he ? Black and pink walls, desks, shelves... he was back in that damn study ! No, couldn't be. That had to be a look-alike room. He opened the second door of this room, and what he found behind was a corridor with the mention _Production Chain Entrance, Level 1 _painted on the wall. The corridor through which he entered the mansion. He was definitely back in the study.

Outside, he could hear a door being smashed to splinters, and the terribly heavy footsteps drawing near. The corridor to the production chain was a no-way-out, except for a narrow cornice. He had to find another escape. Without really thinking, he did the first thing that came through his mind and dove under the sofa.

The door of the study opened, and the heavy pursuer came in. It slowly walked to the center of the room and turned and turned around, as if it was thinking. Charlie held his breath. He couldn't get spotted, or he wouldn't stand a chance. From where he was, he could only see the feet of the monster: two trainers, teenager shoes. With blue jeans. He had already seen those shoes before, but where ?

The giant came close to the sofa and Charlie hardly held back a gasp. The giant stopped. There was a long and anguishing thirty seconds during which the young boy's heart stop beating, positive as he was that he was found. But the giant seemed to notice nothing and simply left the study, closing the room. The boy remained in his hideout for a while. Not for safety, but simply because he was too afraid to dare a single move. When he finally decided to go out, he stood up, opened the door... and arrived not in the corridor with the clown faces, but at one end of a brand new, unexplored gallery. The main feature of this new place was that he was basically walking on the ceiling, and all the doors, except the one he came from and the one at the other end, were at the floor level, which meant over his head. This hallway was turned upside down. _Stop asking yourself questions, _he told himself for comfort, _you're only making it worse... _the giant in trainers was nowhere in sight, that was already a good thing. Without losing any more time, he ran to the opposite door and passed it. The new corridor was in the right position, at least, but he didn't quite recognize it. Maybe it was the first time he took it, or maybe he had already taken it before - he had not memorized all the different colors, and that was the only way to differentiate the places - but there was only one thing sure, he was lost.

----------

"It's getting darker," Violet commented.

"Yes," replied James, who noticed it for the first time. The lower they progressed, the less light there was.

They finally reached the bottom of the ladder, exhausted. The descent was done without a problem, they didn't encounter any danger, but it was just terribly long. They were almost there, keep it up ! They didn't even know how they could finish the mission, tired as they were. In the movies, the hero, no matter how tired he is, always finds enough strength to beat the bad guy. They just hoped it could apply to them !

They followed their new bridge. Violet was really growing tired of bridges. When they were out, and the journalists would interview her, when they asked her what she feared the most, she wouldn't answer the juicing machine, neither the zombies nor the carnivore plants. She would answer: the bridges and the ladders.

"Look !" James called as he pointed out at a wall. She saw written: _Basement 10_. She smiled foolishly in relief.

"We're arrived ! Just two basements left !"

"We've never been so close to the end..."

They continued their way and passed in front of a large circular frame, like a disc, held vertically face to the bridge. In the relative darkness, they couldn't see it well, but couldn't help but stop to watch it, out of curiosity.

"What's that supposed to be ?" James asked.

"You know what it makes me think of ? It looks like a..."

At this precise moment, the lights all came back and literally flooded the surroundings, making the children blink of surprise. Now, they could see the disc clearly, it was white with several rows of red borders, with a large yellow dot in the middle. Whoops, Snake felt very uneasy when he realized they were standing precisely before the yellow dot.

"Violet, tell me it's not what I think it is..."

They slowly turned round. Oompa Loompas. There were other, surviving Oompa Loompas, and they were here, sitting at the commands of a serie of tiny artillery cannons, installed on several platforms at different levels. And the disc they were in front of wasn't the only one, there were lots of other targets fastened on scaffolds everywhere around them. Yes, targets. For that place was a shooting range. And all the cannons were aiming at them, without showing any sign of aggressivity, for now. The kids stood still.

"Looks like we're a perfect target," Violet whispered. "No pun intended..."

"Yeah... brace yourself, they're gonna shoot within seconds. When I say go, you lie down as fast as you can."

Then, the mercenary focused. He focused on what his instinct could perceive that a normal human could not. The heartbeats of the Oompa Loompas, the slight shaking of their tiny hands, tensed and focused. Even the smell of their sweat. He focused, and time seemed to go slower to him. He heard a tiny finger pushing a tiny button.

"Go !"

His calculation was perfect, the pyrotechnic missile passed over their heads without problem and ended its run on the target. However, what he didn't calculate well was the power of the explosion, when it hit the target and spread its beautiful - at least, that needs to be recognized, it was beautiful - plumes of red flames all over the bridge. There was a blinding flash of light accompanied with hot ashes that burned Violet's eyebrows, a deafening noise, and as they were disoriented, Snake slowly, but surely, tripped and fell off the bridge. The girl ran as fast as she could to help him, but she had that nasty feeling she was moving desperately slowly, no matter how hard she pushed herself. She reached out as he was already out of range, falling freely into space, but in a reflex he took out his whip and lashed at her arm. The tip of the leather tail opened a wound in her forearm, and the pain was excruciating, but she bit her lips and forced herself to grab the whip and keep it held tight. His life was hung at the end of her arm, now !

Another explosive candy - for that's what these were - hit in the air very close to Snake, and though it didn't touch him, the shock, under Violet's terrified and helpless look, made him lose hold, leaving the girl alone with his whip.

_Jaaaaaaaaames !!_

He heard her cry as he was falling, for real this time, with nothing to hold on. He was oddly calm, though, as his speed was increasing. He saw the ground coming at him, as if to embrace him, but he was not afraid. Snakes are not afraid of death. Above him, laser shots and cannons, a furious battle was on its way. He hoped Violet would make it out alive. He forced his eyes to stay open. Impact in 3... 2... 1...

A part of the floor suddenly opened just before him, and when he fell, he was surprise to have landed smoothly... underwater ! It took him a while for his sight to get accustomed. He was now swimming, quietly, under a fresh and clear, drinkable water. Looking around, he saw his pool was closed between curved steel walls, and concluded what saved his life was actually a water supply tank. Great, he just had to get out by the trap he fell in. He looked up. The tank was full to maximum capacity and there was not even a tiny space of fresh air left. He swimmed up to the square frame on top, he guessed was the trap. It had closed behind him. He reached out and began to manipulate it, searching for the handle. Uh-oh... there was no handle. He pushed it with all his strength. It wasn't moving.

Oh, shit.

It was locked and sealed, and he had no apparent way to open it from the inside. This time he grew anxious. As a half-reptile, he could breathe underwater longer than a normal person, but that didn't mean infinitely. If Violet didn't come or if he didn't open it by himself soon, he would die by drowning. Violet had to be okay. He hoped so. Even if, technically speaking, she was alone against all those cannons and therefore had one chance out of a hundred to make it. But she was an exceptional girl. That was the only hope he had.

----------

Another door led to another different hallway, where the boy took the first door he saw, that led him to another hallway, always different. Charlie began to despair, and he even began to lose the notion of time. He couldn't tell how long he'd been roaming in this endless labyrinth since he left the study, and it seemed that he was going in a loop, for he recognized every new corridor he entered as a corridor he had passed through before. Once, some of his schoolmates told him about a horror movie where people are locked in a huge labyrinth composed of look-alike square rooms that kept changing positions, so that it was impossible to find the exit. Well, that's exactly how he felt like now. God, was that his hair growing that he felt on his head ?

He arrived in a new corridor. Wait, this one he remembered very clearly: the yellow and blue corridor he had used to reach the stairwell. He also recognized the tiny square of light at the end. He put his hand on the handle of the first door he met, but pushed by a strange intuition, he changed his mind at the last second and opened the next door. The new, blue hallway was completely distorted, it was flipped aside, with the normal floor on his left and the normal ceiling on his right. The actual floor was made of a row of doors with portraits of clowns between each. Just like the other corridor that was flipped upside down, only the door he came from and the door at the other end were normal positioned. Wait, those ugly portraits of clowns... that was... he looked at the door at the other end and recognized the golden plate. EXIT !

He ran straight into it, and this time there was no stretching or distortion of any kind. The door was getting closer and closer. Half-way through, the sounds of heavy footsteps occurred again and made the room tremble. The giant was coming back, for it seemed. He had to hurry ! He arrived at the door, opened it in a rush... and froze. He was now facing the nasty, predatory smile of one of his "old friends", a wall-crawling zombie. Exactly when it was not needed !

"Uh, hey, guy !" the young boy hesitated. "You... you made all the way up here, that's quite a performance... err... good job, really, very good..."

The monster didn't look very receptive. One the exact contrary, it attacked. With a yell like a little girl, Charlie jumped back and ran back in the reversed corridor, running on doors, with this time two monsters after him, one tailing him tight and the other that would very soon appear in front, destroying everything on his path like a juggernaut. That was game over. Wait ! The doors ! In his hurry, he knelt before a floor door and opened it. The monster was falling straight on him ! He jumped into space and crashed rather heavily on the floor of the new room. The door shut behind him, and the boy heard the monster hit the thick wooden panel. He found the noise quite satisfying. The moment after, he heard very clearly the giant burst in with a loud crack of smashed wood. A great party of violent mimi-earthquakes ensued, accompanied with the most inhuman cries - deep roars for the giant and reptilian shrieks for the wall-crawler - he had ever heard. He couldn't do anything but huddle on the floor and wait for the end of the... wrestling match, that was taking place in the hallway. After a while, he heard the zombie die in a last heart-tearing hiss, and the footsteps of the juggernaut were going away. It was over. Both the monsters were gone.

He stood up hesitantly, still in shock. Giving a look at the new room, he saw it was normal: the door was not on the ceiling but on the wall, the floor he stood on was in a normal position, everything was okay. It was as if in this mansion, the laws of physics kept changing along with the colors. This room was square, of average size, and painted white, without any extravagant and distasteful decoration, for a change, and Charlie concluded it was safe. It was actually a warm, luxury tea-room, featuring a large white table supporting a complete China service. The delicate smell of hot tea came to his nose. He went to examine the teapots and saw there was some beverage remaining in. He poured it in a cup and, after a moment of hesitation, concluded it was harmless since Wonka must've used it himself, and drank it. It felt so good ! The hot liquid going down his throat sent jolts of energy in his body and had him rejuvenated ! A pale light passed through the window and brightened his face. The window... only know did he notice it, a high window facing him, at the other side of the table. He couldn't believe it. He approached it. As he guessed, it was night already, and no light was coming from outside except for this pale white light that passed and went away, then passed again, like a searchlight.

He opened the window. The cold, fresh air of the outside caressed his cheeks and played with his hair. He thought he would never feel the outside air again. He could barely see anything below, for the courtyard was plunged in the darkness, but there was an important agitation near the front gates and on the streets around. Police cars, ambulances, soldier-like people, tents, searchlights patrolling the surroundings, and even a massive vehicle, an armored car that looked a bit like a tank without guns, parked where the gates were supposed to stand, before they got destroyed. Incredible, he was out ! Well, not exactly, but he could communicate with the outside ! Would they hear him ? He didn't know... didn't the soldier mention they had a device to hear from far away, when they were in the entrance gallery ? The searchlight passed in front of him and brightened his face again. Only, this time, it didn't go away. Charlie blinked and put a hand in front of him to protect from the light, and he could distinguish, below, a number of people talking, looking suddenly very nervous. One of these people was his mother. Then, a soldier turned his head and, though he was too far to be seen clearly, seemed to look directly at the boy, pointing at him with a loudspeaker. The voice that came to the boy's ears was loud and manly:

"Charlie Bucket ? Speak normally, boy, we can hear you !"

"Okay," he replied hesitantly.

"Are you Charlie Bucket ?"

"Yes, sir."

Then, his mother took the speaker and spoke.

"Charlie ? Can you hear me ?"

"Mom !" last time he heard her voice, it was from the mouth of a cannibalistic living-dead. This one was the real, and there is no word to describe the relief he felt.

"How do you feel, my boy ?"

"I wanna go home, Mom !"

"Sure, and you will. But the police needs your help. You have to tell us what is going on inside and what they must do to come and save you and all your friends. Can you do that ?"

"No..."

She sounded surprised. "Excuse me ?"

"No. There's... nothing. Nothing you can do, I'm sorry. We know the place, and you don't. If you come, you'll only get killed. We have to save Veruca by our own, and then, we'll come out, I promise, Mom."

Another woman he didn't know suddenly appeared beside his mother and snatched the speaker from her. She sounded not only worried, but almost hysteric.

"You, up there ! You said Veruca. Where is she ? What happened to my daughter ?"

As he was about to answer, a loud crack behind him made him turn round with a start to face the threat. His eyes grew wide. The door had just been smashed to splinters, letting in the heavy giant in trainers. He knew he had already seen these shoes, for now he also recognized the white and red striped shirt and the red hair, even if the rabid mountain of muscles in front of him had virtually nothing left of his original model.

"Augustus ?"

Without an answer, the monstrous boy raised his fist and rushed to his defenseless prey with a roar. Oddly, to Charlie, this scene looked very familiar. Augustus looked and behaved like a much larger version of the bullies and brutes he had to bear with at school and in the streets, every day of his life. He knew exactly how they acted. He knew what was coming. He shut his eyes, and waited for his hiding.

----------

Veruca was slowly getting sensations back in her numb limbs. The pain and the intense feeling of pressure on her lungs had faded, and after a serie of helpless coughs, she could breathe rather normally again. She didn't know if it was because of the shock or anything - she wasn't a doctor, after all - but her nose was bleeding. Didn't look so serious, though. Wonka had kept the hellish electric barbecue off for a while, probably because he didn't want her to faint now, and she decided to take a maximum advantage of this allowed resting time to relax a maximum. Wonka was not taking care of her for the moment, busy he was sharpening a scalpel with his blowtorch, and Mr Wilkinson was in a conversation with an Oompa Loompa. She thought those creatures were all dead. It seemed not. The surgeon smiled and turned to his boss:

"Good news ! We got rid of Snake !"

When she heard that, Veruca felt like a frozen hand squeezing her heart. Her protector. Her savior. Dead. No, this wasn't true. She was sure they had staged this. Another kind of torture. The surgeon gave details:

"He and Violet Beauregard were taken by surprise in the shooting range. Snake was hit and taken down."

"And Violet ?"

"As of now, she's still fighting. She is very determined, and the important flexibility she was granted by the juicing is being her main advantage. They can't hit her."

"Good. Keep it going, but do not damage her more than necessary. What about Charlie ?"

"We can't find him anywhere, sir."

The evil chocolatier then turned to his captive:

"Looks like things are not going well for you... Augustus is in my control, Mike is struggling in his computer, Snake was taken down, Charlie has disappeared... the only one still up is Violet, and what can she do alone ?"

He sneered unpleasantly. That was his true face, Veruca thought, the shy quirky guy reading his welcome speech from cue cards was just a smoke screen. The Bogeyman had deceived the kids well.

"Why do you hate children so much, Mr Wonka ? What did they do to you, for you to be so cruel to them ?"

He grew somber, and when he spoke, his voice was different, emotionless, almost mechanic.

"I hate them," he said. "That's understandable. All are little rats, unable to think by their own, unable to stay calm more than two seconds, always putting their greedy little hands on everything and sticking their tongue at the respectable adults. Worse, you try to scold them, and they hide behind Mommy, screaming against the nasty man, and suddenly, this little vermin becomes untouchable ! How in the world could one respect and love such despicable creatures ?"

"What, that's all ? But, it's ridiculous, I mean, it's just the way we are... it's innocence !"

"Innocence ! You said it. Your reaction is the perfect example of what I mean. All their misbehaviors are excused for the sake of innocence. Just because they're cute doesn't mean they're harmless. Cats are predators. The adults just fail to see the reality that lurks behind their children's cuteness... that their so-called innocence hides the most dreadful extremisms, the most hateful tyranny, the wildest savagery..."

"But you used to be one of them !"

"Yes, indeed ! And that's why I know what I'm talking about. I saw their cruelty with my own eyes when I was one of them. Contrary to the other adults, I saw the darkness in them, and never forgot. Wirehead. Wirehead..."

He kept repeating that strange word, _wirehead_, as he turned his gaze at her, and she saw something she never thought possible... tears in his eyes.

"Wirehead !" he yelled, before he calmed down and sat gently on the metal bed, beside her. He did his best to avoid her glance. Veruca couldn't help, she pitied him. The man who terrorized and tortured her, she pitied him. He looked so sad, so fragile, so...

"I wore a headgear," he spat out. "An idea of my father. For my teeth, you know. A complete headgear. I couldn't eat any candy, because it could damage it. On Halloween, when I went trick-or-treating, I was forbidden to eat what I was given. The other kids, at school, in the neighborhood, called me Wirehead. Luke, Gerald, Gus, all the clique. They put my head in the toilet bowl to see if I could rust. Rosemary... she was the only girl who was actually kind with me. Halloween night, I was eleven. I trick-or-treated with Rosemary, it was magic. For the first, and only time in my life, I was genuinely happy..."

He paused, and took a long breath.

"I had an argument with my father, this same night. For I had eaten a piece of chocolate, and I had enjoyed it, like the most marvelous thing that could exist in a man's life. My father was furious. Our argument changed our lives forever. In a matter of seconds, our lives... were... shattered."

While talking, he held a hand in front of her. He had removed the latex glove, and she saw the bare skin, white as ivory, a hand that almost never saw the sunlight, and covered with several nasty brown stains. Dried-up blood, she thought.

"His blood," he confirmed as if he had read in her mind, "never wore off my hands. My curse."

He paused to put his glove back on, and continued:

"My father hated children. Just like you, I didn't understand why. I thought he was injust, and evil. But in my life, I travelled a lot. I met a lot of people. I saw what nasty children grow up to become. I saw the ugliness and evil in my fellow human beings. I learned that the people who are truly worth living with on this planet were the lowest minority. And I understood my father at this moment. Everyday of my life, I regret what I did to him. I love him, he's my father after all. So I vowed to live according to his principles. I set up my plan. It took me years of sweat and blood to reach this point. The Chocolate Factory, the Wonka Corporation... and Wirehead Project."

"Wirehead Project ?"

"The final stage of my plan. The one I am about to reach, thanks to you. When it is complete, I will have complete power. All the nasty, the stupid children of the world will suffer. Only the nice, the intelligent, the kind and considerate will be worthy to survive. I know that through your eyes, Veruca Salt, I look like a comic-book villain, crazy with a scheme of world domination. It is not that at all. It is a large-scale punishment against all the evil of the world attacked at its source - the children. It is the reason that kept me alive every day of my own childhood, my only motivation. My vendetta."

She was speechless. And worse, she herself felt tears rolling on her cheeks. No wonder why he had become such a monster. His whole life must've been a tragedy. How could something so trivial as... bullying, could go that far ? Wait, wasn't the Snake like that too, according to the stories she heard ? That he began by taking revenge on his bullies, and then went wrong until he became a serial killer ? Both were so ressembling... both were born out of a lousy childhood, made of domination, rejection and violence. Something that didn't look serious to adults, but to the kids took more and more importance until it reached breaking point. Snake had found a way to save himself and stay on a relatively right side, with his job. He just does the job and doesn't care about the rest. Willy Wonka was different. He had never been able to be in peace with himself and the world. Now he was taking revenge on it. But was his case so exceptional ? How many children had Veruca hurt in her life of snobbish bitch ? How many Wonkas-in-the-making had been ridiculed, belittled, taunted and humiliated by all the Veruca Salts, the Violet Beauregards, the Mike Teavees in the world ? All of this was her fault too. She was - and her friends were too - paying for their own sins. Their tormentor was merely the image of what their irresponsible actions could produce indirectly.

"I... I..." she began weakly, pathetically. "I so didn't know that... I'm terribly sorry..."

"I have no need for your pitiful excuses ! It's too late for that. Way too late. Now, you have to pay."

He abruptly stood up, back to his creepy and determined self, and walked to the console. Oh, no ! He would start the barbecue again !

"No !" she begged. "Please, don't ! Please ! I'll do anything ! Anything ! Just ask !"

"Really ? Can you give me back what others like you took away from me ? I don't think so. Fry, baby !"

He raised his hand over the dreaded red button, but he stopped as Wilkinson discreetly appeared behind him and whispered something in his ear.

"Thanks," the chocolatier said, looking a little disappointed. "Seems like Violet found an escape. These children will never cease to amaze me. Anyway, she will be caught sooner or later. Shall we..."

His finger danced in the air over the button.

"No !" she shrieked, already anticipating the shock with anguish. "Have mercy ! Mercy !"

"Mercy ? In French, Merci means Thanks..."

And with his ironic smile, he pushed the button.

----------

Now, James began to realize how cold the water really was. Not a good sign at all. When he began to be bothered by the cold, it meant he was really getting weak. Good thing, though, that he couldn't panick, it allowed clear thought on how to get out. But the problem was here: there was no way out, except the hatch he came from, and it was sealed from the outside. How was it possible ? Did someone intentionally seal it behind him ? Seemed like the only explanation. He hit it and pushed on it with all his might, but it didn't move for even an inch. And his efforts were getting weaker. His head was now going numb, with shadows dancing before his eyes. His burning chest was having violent spasms, desperately craving for air. He was drowning. Violet must be dead already.

_Bump !_

The noise came from above. Here, he was thinking Violet was dead, now it was her body that just fell down. Welcome Violet ! Welcome to the land of losers !

The trap opened suddenly over his head and an arm passed around his shoulders and pulled him up. He emerged from the water gasping helplessly as he was getting air back in his lungs, and slid weakly on the curved surface of the tank to fall on a concrete floor. Thank God, no more bridges ! He took some time to gather his wits and got up. It was Violet who pulled him out. She was exhausted and bore several bleeding wounds, but overall, she looked fine. She had no more gun, and his whip was winded askew around her chest.

"Violet ! Glad to see you ! Looks like our roles are reversed, this time."

"I owed you that. You okay ?"

"I almost drowned, but that's gonna be okay."

"By the way, you may want that back..." she handed him the whip, which he tied back on his belt.

"How did you escape the artillery ?"

"That was not an easy job, I can tell you that. That was furious. I almost got hit several times, I got hurt, I lost the rifle, but I made it out by learning to swing with your whip, just like you used to do, and..."

She showed him her hands. The palms were badly scorched. "I escaped by sliding down an elevator cable. With no gloves. Believe me, that's painful."

He sighed. "Thank you, Violet. And I mean it."

"Stop that, you'll make me blush," she joked. "I owed you that, don't forget. And... friends forever, right ?"

"Yeah, friends forever."

Around them, there was no empty space, no bridge and no ladder going down. All of this was over their heads, far above. Here, on this concrete floor, they were at the very bottom of the communication passage, they were in Basement 12. This basement was composed almost only of rows of large half-cylindrical steel tank, rows of dozens, occupying all the space. Of course, he remembered. This basement was used to store all the water supply.

"Are we arrived ?" the girl asked.

"Yes. I think we are. There must be a secret passage, a hatch or something..."

"There !"

She ran to an area at the bottom of the elevator pit. A large square of metal. A hatch, no doubt, and it was as wide as the elevator cage. Of course, this was where the elevator would come in and out of the secret basement. But from their place, they found no lever, no command, no way to open it.

"Mike could open it ?" Snake asked.

"Don't think so. Up there, while I was fighting with the artillery, I asked him for help several times, but he's dead silent. That's creepy."

"Must be just having problems getting the programs all back. Computers are damn complex machines, I always hated those."

She smiled. "I sure hope so... I hope he's okay..."

They searched elsewhere. The noise of all the machines was quieter here, for everything was taking place over their heads. There was no Oompa Loompa at their level, and no FlyBot. It seemed so oddly peaceful, here in this basement. They eventually found a narrow stairway that went up to Basement 11. Useless. But there was nothing to go down.

Snake suddenly stood stiff, struck by a serie of images that passed before his eyes. Snakes. Visions. There were snakes close, he felt them. Very close. Below. On his left.

"This way," he told Violet, and the two kids followed a row of tanks until they found what they were looking for. At the end of the area, between the last tank and the wall, there was a very narrow passage, a staircase of steel almost impossible to distinguish from ten meters further, so narrow and discreet it was. It went down in the darkness, way lower than the tanks' level, and ended in a rust-colored iron door they could hardly see from here. They gave a hesitant look at each others. Was this the way they were searching for ? Maybe. The only way to know was to go down, which they did. After the long descent, the found themselves facing the dark door. It looked sinister and abandoned, like the door to the boiler room in an old school. It had no indication other than a small black print. It was written: **B-13**.


	26. Entering Basement 13

Oh, great, a couch ! A lovely red velvet couch, large, warm and comfortable, neither too soft nor too hard, just perfect. So nice that, in other circumstances, Charlie could have spent the whole day lying on that couch. In other circumstances. For he wasn't really lying on that couch, now: technically, he was _landing _on it, after being thrown like a rugby ball from the other end of the room by a berserk muscle-bound Augustus Gloop. That new room was some kind of a lounge or something. He didn't know, he didn't really have the time to observe the room or even frown at its usual bad taste, he had more important things to focus on. Like, for example, a gingerhead German giant approaching. Without giving him any time, the colossus grabbed the young boy by the ankle, swung him over his head and let him fall on a crystal coffee table... of course, after his landing, there was only the crystal left. Immediately after, he grabbed him by the collar and lifted him at his height. Poor Charlie was bleeding.

"Why do you do that, Augustus ? Have you gone insane ?"

"There's no other way ! The voice told me to ! I must follow the voice !"

"The voice ? What the..."

No time to finish his phrase, he was already flying again, this time to crash on a cupboard. Interesting. He didn't know he could take so much damage, a skinny boy like him. Yet, he was partly knocked down and felt slightly out of himself. The "K.O. hangover", if there was such an expression. Augustus easily pinned him down and, clenching his hands around his neck, slowly proceeded to choke him.

"Listen to me, Augustus," Charlie gasped, "Wonka's controlling you. Stop that !"

"No, he's not controlling me. It's the voice, Charlie ! The voice knows how to get out of there ! I must follow its order, and it told me to kill you !"

God, he heard voices ! He was really going nuts ! Wait... nuts ! Boosted up by his sudden wisdom, he abruptly lifted his knee, and hit his opponent... right in the nuts !

It is well known that in this world, nothing happens as planned. Charlie expected Augustus to release him and fall down in pain after that strike, but not at all. Instead, the German went even madder and, lifting the boy out of the ground, he threw him against a large record player that got turned on by the shock. The music began to play and surprised Charlie. An Italian opera ? What the Hell !

He stood up with difficulty and faced the giant, though he was not really willing to fight. Augustus wasn't moving, he looked disturbed by the music. Well, that's true it wasn't at all fit with the context. An Italian opera for a brawl... as Charlie tried to approach, Augustus suddenly regained his wit and stood on guard, smiling nastily. Oh, damn... he had to escape or get killed ! He began to run to the opposite side of the lounge, and Augustus ran after him, shaking the ground at each step like a dinosaure. They passed beside a counter with all sorts of crystal dishes. Charlie immediately grabbed the first thing at hand, a decanter, and turned round to crash it on Augustus's head. This stopped him... for one second. And then, the young boy received a slap that properly sent him a few feet high in the air... where he remained, levitating ! _The Fizzy Lifting effect, again, _he thought. _I'm beginning to love this !_

He who thought himself out of Augustus's reach in the air had largely underestimated his opponent. The giant boy, with only one hand, picked the couch out of the ground, and threw it at him !

_Uh-oh !_

He shut his eyes. _Fall ! _he ordered himself, and immediately, he went back on the floor and the couch flew harmlessly over his head. Amazing, he could control it ! Augustus changed his tactic and now charged like a rhino.

_Lift !_

And in less time than he needed to brace himself, he was already behind the giant, having performed a superb somersault over his head. Wow ! The German turned round and threw a large punch.

_Dive !_

Charlie dodged again and flew between the giant's legs, where he then kicked the back of his knees to force him down. It worked, and the boy performed another somersault to come back in front of Augustus. The long-time effects of the Drink were amazing ! All those things he could do without any effort ! He was light as a feather ! Turned euphoric by his sudden air superiority, he smiled like an idiot and punched the kneeling boy in the face. One ! Two ! He was totally aware he didn't know how to punch, and he guessed it would take a hundred strikes before Augustus felt any pain, but he didn't care, he was so light ! Three ! Four ! Fi- the fifth one never arrived. The German had just grabbed the fist in mid-course. Whoops...

A wrestling move tossed him neatly through a door, which was turned into matches on the way. Much of the euphoria was gone when the pain arrived. Charlie stood up, he didn't stand a chance, he had to flee ! The new place was a sort of kitchen. Wait... kitchen means pans and plates. Augustus was coming ! Quick ! He rushed to a drawer and picked up a pan which he threw at his pursuer. This seemed to slow him down ! He continued, grabbing the first thing that was at hand and bombing the giant with it. Maybe he could knock him out and reason him with that !

Augustus hesitated, surprised by the rain of dishes that was falling on him. He raised his hands for protection and stepped back to the hole he came from, trying his best to avoid the odd kitchen missiles. Not that it really hurt, far from that. Nearly invincible as he felt with all the drugs, he barely felt the impacts and the broken glass and sharp pieces of china didn't do a single scratch on his skin. Charlie decided it would finally be wiser to take this opportunity to flee, and ran past the next door, to arrive in the middle of a spiral staircase. That was one heck of a luck ! He ran up as he heard the giant coming back behind him, and climbed as fast as he could. Quick ! Once he's at the last floor, he would just have to find the secret passage and arrive straight in Basement 13 !

He had ran three quarters of the first circle of the spiral when he turned his head to make sure he wasn't being chased. No-one was behind. But at this very moment, he didn't see what was coming in front and bumped into something as hard as a brick wall, which just happened to be no other than Augustus's chest ! No ! Impossible ! How did he make it up that fast ? Wait... or was it just Charlie himself who just didn't climb and went back to the door ? Crap, just like the hallways, that was a tricky staircase ! And now, he was at the juggernaut's mercy.

"Wait ! Okay, Augustus, you win ! Just, don't kill me, please ! You don't need to follow your voices, you understand ? There's another way to get out, and we'll search for it together ! Just..."

The poor young boy had just forgotten a basic, capital element in Augustus's persona, and the German reminded it to him at this moment, when he threw a fist large as a ham into his face: the total absence of a brain. There was first an acute pain in his nose, and then it felt like the whole world was floating peacefully around him. _Now, _he told himself in a part of his head that was still aware, _I know what cartoon characters feel like when they see stars flying over their heads... _he took a second punch, and a third one. And to finish, a wrestling toss that brought him back in the kitchen. He was out of the fight. If you could call that a fight.

Trying to regain his wits, he leaned against a wall and stood on his weak legs. Damn, things were really getting bad for him. He could hardly stand, how would he escape Augustus ? And he was now positive there was no way to reason him. The juggernaut was standing a few feet from him, in the crouching stance of a football player. That was the end. He would finish him by crushing him against the wall like a mosquito. Farewell, Veruca ! Farewell, my friends ! Farewell, my family !

Augustus charged with a roar of fury.

_Lift !_

Charlie's feet automatically left the ground and his body flew up in the air, out of the giant's reach. But that was too late for Augustus to stop now that he was launched at full speed, and he charged straight into the wall. The wall gave way under his weight ! Charlie couldn't believe it, first he heard the loud crack of the wall yielding, and right after, a scream of terror, and the German boy was gone. Without minding, he landed back on the floor and approached the large hole dug by the shock. It was like a truck had passed through. He bent over. Behind, there was nothing but a narrow pit, dark and seemingly bottomless. Sinister. He felt a breeze coming from below, and he guessed that if there was a bottom, it was very, very deep. Augustus was nowhere to be seen. Oh, God, he was gone into the pit ! Then maybe he was... no, maybe not, after all, he could be strong enough to withstand the fall... but that was very unlikely, though. Not with such a height. That was terrible, tragic.

"It was him, or it was me," Charlie told himself for comfort. "It was him, or it was me."

Curiously, it didn't make him feel any better. The music was stopped. Maybe it was already stopped for a while, he didn't know. He didn't bother about the music, actually. That pit could likely be the famous secret passage. It was tempting to just jump down and let his flying ability take him down safely. But he didn't do it. He didn't trust that skill he could control only by reflex. Besides, it was so deep even Superman would have had vertigo. And he didn't want to land face to face with a huge dead body below. And he wasn't even sure that was the passage he was searching for. No, that wasn't wise. He had to stick to the original plan and search for Wonka's office. Not all staircases could be tricky ones, after all. He had to find the right one, that's all.

----------

Judging by the rust color of the door, James and Violet first thought this small entrance to the cursed basement was made of copper, or iron. It turned out when they tried to open it that it was made of lead, and opening it required an important effort. But as it finally yielded, their ears were immediately invaded by a thousand soft hisses.

"What's this ?" Violet asked.

"I think I know, but you may not like it..."

They moved past the door. Now they were standing on an advanced path of concrete, like a pier, hanging over a pit, well not really a pit, the whole space was high and circular and resembled more like the inside of a silo. Their pier was going only a few meters ahead and ended with a ladder going down. Another ladder, to Violet's greatest disappointment. Everything here except the ladder was made of raw concrete and had that dirty, worn-out brown color that evoked rust. And it was cold, too. Not freezing, but surprisingly chilling compared to the upper basements. It was only the first room of the basement they were visiting, and already they understood it would be nothing like the rest of the Factory in terms of design and atmosphere. They didn't see any door from here, and the strange hissings were coming from below.

Violet was first to move, and she went to the end of the pier and looked down. Immediately, she felt an immense coldness invade her, as her mouth went dry and her legs began to shake in an insecure way.

"My God," she whispered, her voice suppressed by the emotion that was choking her. "No, God, it can't be..."

The bottom of the silo was not very deep below. Perhaps ten meters at most. The door to continue into the basement was facing them, but at the ground level, so that they had to climb down to reach it. Sounded easy... except that _they_ were here. Literally infesting the place, so many of them that the actual floor was invisible, hidden under thousands of naked, limbless and cold bodies creeping, crawling, winding around each others in complicated knots like living ropes. They were black, brown, yellow, green or red, they were of every size, but they were all doing the same thing, sticking out their forked tongues and producing spine-chilling hisses. She remembered the dark forest. She remembered her nightmares, all of her gruesome nightmares. They had just come true. The creatures haunting her in her dreams were here with her, now, all of these...

"Snakes," James ascertained. "So this is where the snake pit was... Violet ? Are you okay ?"

But the girl couldn't answer. Stiff and shaking, she was looking at the reptiles below without even blinking. He couldn't believe what he saw, when her face did really turn white this time, so white that beside, her pale blue hair could be Navy blue. He perceived a smile at the corner of her mouth, but it was clear it was not a smile, it was a nervous twitch expressing the deepest terror. She was going to faint ! The boy hurried and caught her by the waist just as her legs gave way. He gingerly lay her down safely on the pier.

"That's just a fit of stress," he said, "breathe slowly..."

After a while, her face retrieve its blue color.

"Feeling better ?"

"Yes... Jesus, tell me this is not happening..."

"It is happening. There is indeed a snake pit below, and if we want to continue in the basement, we'll have to cross it."

She suddenly began to yell: "No ! We won't do that ! There must be another way !"

Slowly, James helped her up, and as she looked down again, she took his hand and squeezed it so tight it began to hurt.

"No, we can't," she continued, more calmly, for she knew there was no other way, "we... no... Sweet Lord, why did you do that ? These things have always been what I dread the most..."

She told herself that these snakes were maybe not here by chance and they were somehow put here especially for her. She didn't know that earlier, Veruca, who dreaded hospitals, had told herself the same thing in the infirmary that looked like a hospitals: it was as if all their fears were taking shape within the walls of the Factory.

"Listen, you don't have to fear them. They can't hurt you, not as long as you're with me. Remember, I am one of them. I'll go down first, follow me."

Before her eyes he began to climb down the ladder. She felt like following him was over her strength. She had fought Oompa Loompas, various killer robots and zombies, yet she couldn't simply use that ladder. The snakes ! So many of these ! She watched Jim as he arrived, but when he went in contact with the reptiles, she had to look away.

It was deeper than he thought. He actually had snakes up to his waist. It was like a swimming pool, with snakes instead of water. First, he didn't move, and let the animals wind around him, touch him, and taste his smell with their forked tongues. After a few seconds, he waved his hands around and caressed them in return. Such a scene would have fascinated a zoologist: the boy and the reptiles were interacting with slow, gentle and almost respectful manners, as if following some alien ritual. He didn't realize right away that he had instinctively drawn out his venom stings and tongue, thus making himself as snakish as possible among them. He felt good with them, so good he could almost read in their souls and share their feelings, if they had any. An immense peace invaded him, the kind of peace you only find among your family. He resisted the temptation of calling them brothers. That was creepy. He was paradoxically anxious, not afraid of the snakes themselves, but afraid that he himself was so close to them who were not even human. He looked up.

"You can come, Violet."

"No ! I won't go anywhere near them !"

"There's no danger, I promise. They won't attack you if you're with me. After all, they're like... brothers."

Her head appeared over him. She considered him with a slight disgust.

"Okay, I'll come down with only one condition: never, ever call them brothers again. That's just weird."

The girl set foot on the ladder and began her descent. That was already a victory to have her come down, but when he saw how much she was trembling, James knew the hardest was yet to come: now, they had to pass through before Violet began to panick or something. If she had to panick, he hoped she would just pass out and not struggle or do something stupids. These animals were still impredictible, after all.

It was a superhuman effort for Violet to put her feet into the compact crowd of snakes and let herself down to the waist among the creatures that had been inhabiting her nightmares since she was a little girl. When she felt all their long, hard and cold bodies crawl against her and surround her like a thousand deadly steel ropes, she was over the edge of panic. Her body tensed, she couldn't think anymore, and she felt like her stomach was crawling up her throat. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't. She wanted to kick all of these monsters away, but she couldn't. She knew how it would end, she had dreamed this scene a thousand times: the snakes would pin her down, they would crawl all over her and creep under her clothes, and when she felt their coldness on her bare skin and tried to scream, they would go into her mouth and all the way down... at this moment, a forked tongue tickled the back of her hand. That sensation broke the last bits of self-control she had, and she swiftly withdrew her hands and let out a long scream that excited all the reptiles of the pit and turned them aggressive... actually, that's what she would have done if James hadn't grabbed her shoulder just before and squeezed to bring her back to reality. If she panicked, they were dead. So instead of screaming, she only let out weak but fast and short-breathed moans. He had never seen such a state of anguish before.

"Climb on my back, Violet, and try to relax. They won't attack you, not if you don't attack them..."

She was pretty light, but the stiffness of her body and the extreme force with which she gripped on his shoulders made him bend. Together, they moved on, and as they passed through more and more snakes, he felt against him the small girl's body shaking increasingly.

"Hang on," he encouraged, "we're already half-way..."

Now, along with the trembling she was moaning louder and faster. Her hands squeezed him so tight near his neck that he could hardly breathe. She would crack in a second !

"You're doing a great job, Vi, just keep it up ! We're almost there !"

Finally, as he was almost breathless, he managed to climb on the small platform where the door was. Violet released him and fell on a solid floor, where no animal was crawling on her anymore. They were out of the pit ! They made it ! The girl looked behind her, at the reptiles, with mixed feelings of disgust and... curiously, there was not so much fear anymore. She still hated the snakes, but didn't really dread them anymore. It was replaced by a feeling of triumph. She had passed through the pit harmless. It was like the first time she did abseil: a gut-wrenching anxiety before the descent, an overwhelming panic during the effort, and finally, the same relief and triumph she felt now. She had defeated her own fear. Now, she could tell her mother she really was a winner.

"After all," she thought out loud, "they're not that terrible... just like, big worms..."

A loud clank came from behind. Snake was already opening the door.

"This is just like _Indiana Jones_," he said. "I wonder what's next... cockroaches ?"

She sniggered: "Please... I don't think I wanna know before we get there."

They courageously passed the door and went deeper into Basement 13.

To their greatest relief, there was no other pit. Instead, they passed through a short gallery to arrive in a wide, creepy octogonal room, made of the same brown concrete. Every rooms in that basement were made of the same material. There were seven iron doors, one on each wall, plus the gallery they came from. The content of this room gave Violet a chill as she wondered what all of this was for. James recognized it, he had already seen such a stuff somewhere... in the basements of the Russian mafia, in Moscow.

They came in the middle to observe all this stuff more closely: there was a forest of chains hanging from the ceiling, with metal cuffs at the ends. And around them, several long steel tables, all equipped with cuffs and a complicated system of wheels, rollers, gears, and most chilling, shiny spikes, razor-sharp blades, everything that pricks, cuts, saws, slashes, chops, carves and lacerates. There was a whole arsenal. And needless to ask what that was for.

"I know this machine !" Violet exclaimed as she observed one of the tables. "It's a rack, like in the movies !"

"And that thing," Snake said from another machine, "I know what it is, too..."

She came to him and looked at the table that had its sides equipped with two long rollers bristled with nails. The table itself was also riddled with grooves, like small gutters. This machine looked particularily aggressive.

"What's that ?"

"Pullers. It's a device used in slaughterhouses to skin the cattle. Simply, a small part of the skin is cut and then nailed to those rollers. Then, you just have to roll it and this way, you can peel off almost all the skin in a single row. It's normally performed on dead cattle, but this one looks like it's meant specifically for a human."

She immediately had a jerk back. _What the Hell ! _she thought. That was so... so gross, and... and horrible, and... and gruesome, and... God, just gross !

"Can it... can it be performed on a living person ?"

"Yes, I think so..."

"Oh, my !"

She lost all sensations in her legs. She had nothing to throw up, and even if she had, her guts were like frozen inside. Disgust at its most extreme level. She didn't dare simply imagine the agony of a victim of such a heinous torture. She tried to take that with humor:

"Well I'm glad I'm not gonna undergo this..."

"Actually, you're supposed to..."

"What ?"

He showed him what he had just discovered, a discreet plate on the side of the table. It was simply written: _Violet Beauregard_. She was speechless.

"This machine was meant for you. Wonka seems to be after your skin..."

"But why ?"

"Because it tastes like a blueberry ? Maybe that trick with the magic gum was meant for this. He was looking for a guinea pig to test its effects, and now he wants the skin for research. He has a scheme for you. I bet he has schemes for all of us - all of _you_, for I'm kind of a surprise guest - and you're only his guinea pigs. Look at that..."

He went to a device that looked like a large iron cauldron with numerous pipes coming out of it.

"I bet this one is meant for boiling fat. You know who I'm thinking of ?"

"Augustus ?"

"Yep."

"Jesus !"

All the time, she had tried to escape the Factory being aware of a _threat_, but that _threat_ had always been vague, abstract. She just knew she would get in lots of troubles if Wonka caught her. But now, the threat was clear, she knew exactly what was waiting for her if she got caught. And with all the imagination her young brain was capable of, she was far from imagining _this_ ! She stepped back in shock, and bumped against one of the doors. Unexpectedly, a response came from behind. A yell. A human yell.

"Hey," she exclaimed, regaining her wits, "there's somebody there !"

Snake immediately put his hand on his whip, just in case, and they tested the door. It was locked from the inside, but they could open it from the outside. The door led to a cell, a narrow and dark cell, with a mattress, a bowl for the food, and toilets. As simple as the cell of a gulag. The human who yelled was there, sitting against a wall with her head between her knees, sobbing in silence. It was a little girl, no older than Violet, barefoot and clad in white pajamas, the kind of suit worn by patients in mental institutions. Her blond hair was almost white, and she was terribly skinny. It made no doubt she was very ill. The blue girl knelt down beside her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Don't be afraid, we're here to help you. It's over, I promise. What's your name ?"

The girl raised her head and looked at Violet with white eyes that were as empty as marbles. First, Violet dreaded another of those zombie creatures, but this girl was definitely human. She was blind, that was all. She began to speak nervously, but in a language that was unknown to the young girl.

"What is she saying ?" she asked James who knelt down beside her too.

"That's Russian," he explained. "She says whoever we are, we should leave before he comes back."

"Who ? Wonka ?"

That simple word gave the blind girl a start. James began to talk to her in Russian, and they had a conversation he translated to Violet as she spoke:

"She says her name's Oksana. She used to live in Georgia - the country, of course, not the State - but one day, someone came in her village. An old European man who called himself Wilkinson. He was a warm and charming fellow, and he was rich, so he was warmly greeted in that poor village. He said he was working for Willy Wonka. The chocolatier was like an idol for the children in this village, it was easy to gain their trust. He said... he said the village had been chosen to hold a contest, a great contest that would allow a few children to meet Willy Wonka in person, in his very Factory, and bring back as much chocolate as they wished. And, well, Wilkinson was here to select the children who would be given the honor. That place was so poor that the only future for children was to kill themselves working in the farms, or to get enrolled in the mafia, that is why the parents didn't hesitate one second to let their kids go to England with hope. Oksana was one of them. They travelled in a charter aircraft. When they arrived in the Factory, everything went wrong. They were suddenly locked in small cells in this eerie basement, along with dozens of other Third World kids. She says she understood at this moment that she would never see her village again. They were treated like animals, neglected and sometimes beaten. Often, in the middle of the night, Wonka and his assistant would pick a few kids and bring them in this place or in the surgery, for experiments, or sometimes just for the fun. Most of the time, they only heard screams that lasted the whole night, and the missing kids were never seen again. She remembers once, she and a few others were brought to a snake pit. One kid was thrown into the pit, and the others were forced to watch as the snakes killed their prey."

"My God..." Violet had nothing else to say. What she heard was far beyond what she could conceive.

"And then, she says, one day it was her turn. They used her to try some kind of laser that was supposed to teleport people inside the television. Well it just didn't work, and instead of teleporting her, it burned her retinas. She says she was subjected to numerous other experiments, but this one was the worst, because it made her lose her sight."

"Just... how long has she been held here ?"

He translated the question.

_"2 let," _she replied somberly.

"She says... _2 let ?_"

_"Da."_

"What did she say ?"

"Two years. She's been here for two years already."

"I can't believe it... we'll get him, Oksana ! You hear me ? We'll find Wonka and we'll make him pay for what he did to you and the others ! I promise !"

Snake translated. And then, something almost magic happened: the fragile, ill face of the blind girl brightened with a smile, and she gave Violet a long, deeply thankful hug. Violet told herself she had to look like a real hero for this little girl. That was the first time it happened to her. To be someone else's hero. And she kinda liked it. Snake then gave Oksana a serie of instructions in Russian, which the girl seemed to approve.

"What did you tell her ?"

"I said she had to stay here and wait for us. I said we would go on and find Wonka, and once we're ready to escape, we'll come back to pick her up with us. Now, let's go."

Now, Violet had a mission too. She felt deeply concerned by Oksana, and she swore to herself that she would do everything it takes to rescue her. As she stood up and headed for the door, she felt as determined as her companion.

_"Ozhidanie !" _Oksana yelled before they left. She said something with a worried voice. Snake translated:

"She says we should take care of the basement's guard. She says it's an ogre everyone calls Meat, and he's as dangerous as he's ugly."

And at this moment, as if Fate had a twisted sense of humor, they heard a door being swung open violently, somewhere outside, followed by a loud, gleeful shriek, that did sound like a swine.

"What was that ?" Violet asked.

Oksana was shaking like a leaf under the wind. _"Mjaso," _she simply spat out.

"She says... that was... Meat."

----------

The sensation of victory Charlie experienced when he finally reached the last of the last stair was worth all the chocolate bars he ate in his whole life. He was tottering of pain after the beating he received, and he was worn out, but he beat the mad labyrinth ! If Mike were here with him, he would make a comment on the fact that it was like reaching the final level of a game. It was much easier after he beat Augustus. Relieved of the pressure of the chase, he had felt the maze of corridors had become much more logical, and the staircases were not that tricky anymore. It was as if the mansion had reacted to his state of mind and made his progression more difficult as his stress increased... odd... still, poor Augustus ! Thinking of him darkened his euphoria, and therefore he tried not to.

All this level seemed to be vibrating slightly, as if submitted to an intense, almost oppressive force. Charlie soon found out that to stop thinking of Augustus wouldn't bring his euphoria back: the intense, invisible force in this level was worrying him and preventing him to do so. He could almost hear a soft humming, but it could as well be his imagination. And he actually preferred to believe it was his imagination. He made his way to a large library with the most exhaustive collection of books he had ever seen. Every single shelf and wall was creaking under the weight of thousands of books, and there were even on the ceiling ! There was only a space left free, a tiny reading space with a sofa and a small table. Wait, wasn't Wonka's office supposed to be here ? Surely, this tiny space couldn't be called an office, even with an effort of imagination. He took his map from his pocket to make sure he hadn't made a mistake. According to it, the office was definitely there, behind this room. He then moved on. The oppressive vibrations and the slight humming were getting more important as he approached the other end of the library, to a point that they couldn't be denied anymore. There had to be some really big machine somewhere in this level.

To his disappointment, there was no door where the entrance to the office was supposed to be. Only other shelves and their tons of books. Damn it, so what ? There was a secret passage that he was supposed to look for ? He examined the shelves. At least, Wonka was an avid reader... after a short while, he noticed an oddity: a shelf that was almost empty, except for five books in the middle. Intrigued, he looked closer and found a volume of _Alice's Adventures In Wonderland_. That was the only one of the five he knew, the others he had merely heard of: there was _No Exit_, _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_, _Kidnapped_, and _Winesburg, Ohio_. No indication of any secret passage whatsoever, except those five books kept away from the others. Or maybe there was a riddle to solve about those books ? He began to despair. If that was so, then he had not a chance ! How could he have enough time to read all five of these ? Calm down, there had to be another way. He read the titles. And then he read them again. Wait ! There was something strange about the titles... five books, five titles, he was sure the solution was there... and suddenly, it just caught his eyes. He picked up a book and changed its place hesitantly. Nothing happened yet, but he knew he was on the right way: he took all the five books and re-arranged them on the shelf from left to right, in this order:

_Winesburg, Ohio_

_One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_

_No Exit_

_Kidnapped_

_Alice's Adventures In Wonderland_

He heard a click. And then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, the shelf moved and vanished in the floor. Charlie congratulated himself with a smile and took this new passage.

Willy Wonka's office was nothing like an usual office at all. Well, there was a large desk and an armchair facing the entrance, but that was all. All the rest was thick carpets and walls painted pink and pale blue. And toys. All over. On the shelves, on the furniture, or left neglectfully on the floor, there were toys of every kind, and Charlie couldn't make a step without tripping on a car, a soldier, or a doll. That place was supposed to be the office of one of the world's most successful businessmen, yet it looked like a messed up toy shop. What kind of man was really Mr Wonka ?

The wall behind the desk was actually a large glass pane opening to a darker room. The boy moved to the desk and stuck his face to the glass. It was offering a view from the upper part of a large, dimly lit hangar, with in the middle a satellite dish pointing at the ceiling. But it wasn't the kind of dish people use to watch TV. It was more like those oversized antennas, parabolic radio telescops the Americans used for space research. It was huge. That had to be the machine producing all those vibrations, but what was the need for that in a chocolate factory ? He gave a curious look at the desk, to see if he could find a clue, when he saw it.

He stopped breathing. The object looked pretty small and harmless, but Charlie was amazed and even afraid of the millions of informations he could get from that. It was a book, a pocket size book, bearing for title and only information a white sticker with, written in the hesitant and awkward style of a schoolboy, three simple words:

_William Wilburson Wonka._

A diary. Willy Wonka's diary.

----------

Okay, you've noticed this chapter is shorter than usual. It was supposed to be longer, but with Wonka's diary, we're like attacking a new part of the story, so I thought I should split chapters here for the sake of clarity. Already, all the part with Charlie and Augustus was supposed to be in the previous chapter and appeared here for matters of length. Voilà voilà...

Oh, a little surprise, for those interested in the Snake's own story, I'm now beginning to publish it ! Visit my profile for more information.


	27. Memories Of A Dangerous Soul

Warning: this chapter is sick. Really. You might be used to it already, but even I, when I read it again, I kept telling myself: "Where the Hell did I get this idea ?"

Lol, that is also one of the first scenes of the story I had in mind (in general outlines, of course) when I started writing, so I kinda like it more. Hope you will.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Charlie grabbed the diary with trembling fingers and opened a random page near the beginning. The shaking writing was definitely that of a child. Fascinated, he began:

_June 24th, 1964._

_Dear Diary,_

_You know that, today was supposed to be the D Day, for me. Dear Diary, I think I'll never grow tired of telling you what wonderful, beautiful person is Rosemary Kilmaster. She's a princess. I wanted her to be my princess, today. I wanted to tell her how much I love her, Dear Diary, but once again, the odds were against me. I was on my way, she was only a few meters ahead, when I bumped into Luke. I hate this guy, Dear Diary, but I've already told you how nasty he is. How nasty they all are, except my sweet Rosemary. He said something bad about my headgear - how much I hate it too ! - and then, he and Gerald grabbed me and dragged me to the toilets, to "have a little fun", they said. They put my head in the bowl and flushed, they wanted to see if I could rust. That was terrible, but what could I do ? They're much taller and stronger than I am ! And they always ruin my day, everytime I meet them, they find a way to make my life a Hell. They're not kids, they're monsters. I came home crying, and when I told Dad, he did nothing. He just made a comment about how I would "get over it" once an adult, and went back to clean his instruments. He loves his job better than me._

_Only you really understand me._

The boy gave a quick look at the next entries, basically describing his lousy Summer, and how the neighborhood kids chased him, threw him stones and called him names: The Can, The Boy Of Steel, Jaws, and most of the time, Wirehead... he had no friends, and Dr Wonka's only concern about his son seemed to be the good state of his teeth, which he preserved by making him wear huge and hideous braces. The only nice person in this tale was Rosemary. She was described as his only friend, but he never told her he loved her, even if this was rather obvious in his writing. Waw, that really was a terrible life for a child ! Charlie flet sorry for the poor boy. He himself was sometimes taunted and given names because he was the poorest in town, but he at least had a few friends, and a loving family. Little Willy was exactly the contrary: wealthy, but there was no love in the Wonka household. The next entry that caught his eyes was written in a fast, nervous style:

_October 30st, 1964._

_Dear Diary,_

_I have to tell you this right now, even if I'm too nervous to write. You'll never believe what happened to me ! Rosemary invited me to go trick-or-treating with her tomorrow ! I still don't know what kind of disguise I'll choose. A ghost, perhaps. Luke, as usual, said I don't need a disguise anyway. I'm so happy I don't even bother. She asked what was my favorite kind of candy, and I had to explain that, because sugar could damage my teeth, Dad forbid me from eating any kind of candy. She was sad that I never tasted any candy in my life. She said you can't spend a Halloween night without eating candy. She said I should try, and gave me a small piece of chocolate. Dear Diary, I never imagined it could taste so darn good ! It's the best thing I've ever eaten in my whole life ! Now I know what I want to be when I'm older: I want to be a chocolatier. Dad will never agree. Then I'll run away. I'll go to Germany, and Switzerland, and Belgium, where the best chocolate is made ! I'll learn all their secrets and make the most wonkalicious candies in the whole world ! I don't care what Dad will say, I have made my decision. Dear people of the world ! I, Willy Wonka, vow to become the world's finest candymaker, no matter what it takes !_

_Oops, I have to go, I have a disguise to prepare !_

The next page was... bizarre. Dirty, with reddish brown stains and fingerprints. Blood ? He read with apprehension:

_October 31st, 1964._

_Dear Diary,_

_Something happened, Dear Diary. Something terrible happened. And I don't even know if I should feel sad for that. I went home after trick-or-treating, and Dad immediately took my basket, as usual. But he found out I had eaten chocolate, despite him strictly forbidding me to do so. That was the worst crime for him. He went very angry, and I was scared. He gave me a lecture, but in the end I decided I had enough and told him I wanted to be a chocolatier. I never saw him so angry before. He beat me and told me he hates candy, and he hates children. I thought I hated him too. I still don't really know why I grabbed his large scissors and hit him with these. Now he's lying down and he's not waking up. There's blood everywhere, on my hands too, lots of blood ! I'm scared._

_Dear Diary, I killed my Daddy !_

_I can't stay here any longer. When the cops find me, they will put me in prison, and maybe they will even hang me ! I have no time left, I must go. My bag is packed and I have some money. I must leave at once. I will take a boat for France, where the cops won't find me, and then I'll do as I said: I'll go to Belgium, and Switzerland, and Germany, and when I come back, I'll be the best candymaker in the universe ! I hear a car, could they be here already ? We must go !_

_Farewell, Rosemary._

_I don't even feel sad._

----------

Violet started breathing again. She didn't realize she had stopped. In the dark, she could hardly distinguish Snake who was sitting on the other side of the door, but he seemed to have stopped breathing too. They were still in the small cell, with Oksana who was dead silent. The two kids had hidden against the wall on each side of the door when they heard the heavy footsteps and the swine-like shrieks of the ogre called Meat approaching. They hadn't seen him, but according to the noise he made, he had to be monstrous. Now, the noise had faded, and silence was coming back in the dark basement.

"Think we lost him ?" Violet whispered.

"Hope so... let's get outta here, but be careful..."

Trembling, the girl followed the mercenary back into the octogonal room, the one with all the chains and torture instruments. It was all desert and quiet. They relaxed.

"Yeah, I think he's gone..."

Clash ! With a deafening yell, the monster appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and the kids avoided his blade tightly as it hit a steel table, tearing it in two. What the Hell was _that_ ? It looked so malformed it was vaguely human. The thing was sickeningly gross and repulsive: it looked like a hairy, morbidly obese naked man, its skin covered with filth and acne, eczema, fungi, basically it was a walking encyclopedia of all the skin diseases known in this world. And its head was nothing more than a grotesque, rotting pig mask that could have come right out of _Lord Of The Flies_. And it bore the largest meat cleaver the two kids had ever seen in their lives.

Immediately, Snake drew his whip and lashed. The leather tail smacked loudly on the hairy belly, but only left a red mark on the skin. The pig-faced monster yelled... and slashed again, the oversized blade destroying another rack. Violet stepped back for safety. She knew that attacking the behemoth without weapons was suicidal. Meanwhile, the young mercenary kept attacking, only to no avail. The monster's ill skin seemed to be harder than tanned leather. Each strike only left a red mark and made the pig-man shriek, not in pain, sounded more like an insane bliss. As Violet watched with horror, she realized Oksana was right and that thing definitely was an ogre. Adults who claim ogres don't exist should consider this question, because for the little blue girl, there was no other word to describe such a creature as Meat. Snake lashed at the arm holding the cleaver, an arm that was large as a ham. The leather tail winded around the wrist, but as the boy pulled to bring the monster down, Meat pulled on his own side. And its strength was that of a lifting crane: Snake was practically brought off the ground and flew all the way over his enemy to crash heavily against the opposite wall.

Violet saw all the scene, and when her friend was thrown away, she immediately grabbed a chain, pulling it off the ceiling, to have a weapon to defend herself. Meat was now approaching her. God, the closer it came, the more she realized how ugly it was ! And with her chain, she wouldn't hold long against his knife, but although she was terrified, she had to stand against it. She had defeated the snakes, after all ! But, God, at least the snakes didn't smell so strong ! With slow moves, to contain her fear, she stepped back as much as she could and swung the chain before her in a threatening manner. Meat was not impressed the least and kept shrieking with glee. That was sick...

Snake stood back up, dizzy but unharmed. He had received quite a big shock, along with a terrible feeling of déjà-vu. The way Meat had thrown him away, was exactly the same as the Black Widow, hours earlier. And just how did he defeat the Black Widow ? The monster was threatening Violet. He whistled, and Meat turned round to face him again. Snake waved at it to come closer, in a sort of cocky, Bruce Lee attitude. It didn't need more to put the ogre in ecstasy: swinging its cleaver and shrieking with excitement, it rushed to the reptile boy. But Snake wasn't afraid. He knew what to do.

_Impulse._

At the speed of light, the boy drew the Deringer out of its hideout, in his boot, and aimed at the pig-man.

"Game over, you stinky butt-head."

He pulled the trigger. Nothing came out of the gun, except a weak metallic clink. He sighed. _Oh, dear, _he told himself, and it was his mentor's voice he heard in his head. _Forgot already ? There's only one bullet in a Deringer._

The ogre kept drawing closer, and eventually arrived at contact.

_Impulse._

The side-step had been so quick it was as if Snake had teleported behind his enemy. The pig hit the wall at full speed. He groaned, and this time it was pain. But that wasn't enough to stop him, and already he turned to Snake again and swung his blade. The boy dodged it and dashed, shoulder first, to smash all his weight into the fat, dirty belly. Meat groaned again, and dropped the cleaver under the shock. But the move didn't have the expected effect, for the monster was just barely shaken by the strike ! Dammit, it was unbreakable !

The mercenary had no time to step back as the monster immediately grabbed him between its oversized arms and lifted him off the ground in a bear hug. Violet was watching the scene from a few feet behind, passive. Between a five-hundred-pound pig-faced butcher and a lightning-fast whip-toting soldier, she felt horribly helpless with her little forty kilograms and her miserable chain. Then suddenly, as Snake was still prisoner of the monstrous embrace, she heard the terribly distressing crack of broken bones, and Snake was neglectfully tossed on the floor, his spine turned to splinters.

----------

_November 4th, 1964._

_Dear Diary,_

_We're here, we've finally reached Portsmouth. But let us not get relaxed so easily, the hardest is yet to come. Now we have to find a way to get into a boat to France. I don't have anymore money. Yesterday, I gave everything I had to an old man who ran a car repair shop if he agreed to take my headgear off. It hurt like Hell when he had to remove my braces one by one, and my teeth are still bleeding, sometimes. But I feel so much better now, I feel like I'm reborn. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I was surprised to see how good I look. There will be no more Wirehead, now. Finally. I found a newspaper in a trash can and read that a respected dentist was found dead in his home, and his son was missing. The cops think I was kidnapped. Guess it's better this way, but now, they're looking for me. I must leave the country as soon as I can, and till then, I must stay hidden in the dark alleys, in the suburbs. These places are scary. At night, I can hear drunk people fighting and wreaking havoc, I even heard a gunshot. I found an abandoned mattress to sleep, and I was awakened by a group of street boys. They beat me up and threw me in a trash bin. Why were they so mean, I didn't even know them ? They're as mean as Luke, Gerald and Gus, from the school. Are all the children exactly the same ? Are they all so naturally cruel ? I guess so. Even if there are exceptions. I am an exception. Rosemary is an exception. Oh, Rosemary ! If only I hadn't killed Dad, I could have stayed with her. And at least, even if I hated him, I had a bed, and food. But I can't regret what I did. What is done is done, and now, it's just you and me._

_The baker's wife was kind enough to give me a loaf of bread for breakfast. There are nice people here. But not enough. We have lots of work today, we'd better get moving._

_November 6th, 1964._

_Dear Diary,_

_That wasn't easy to get here, I think we can consider ourselves lucky. I sleep between wooden crates and my only lighting is a mining lamp that is barely enough to write. But the cargo ship is heading for Cherbourg, France, and tomorrow, we will set foot on a new world. I spent the last night in Portsmouth going into pubs, in the port, looking for sailors. The sailors were gross and dirty people. They were all drunk and called me names I didn't understand. One of them agreed to let me in a ship if I gave him a blowjob. When I said I didn't have one, it made them laugh coarsely. The sailor took me to an alley behind the pub and told me what it was. I had to do it, Dear Diary, even if it was the most disgusting thing that I have ever done. When we were finished, he told me to meet him at the docks at 5 am, and walked away laughing. I cried when he was gone, I didn't want him to see my tears. At least, he kept his promise and let me in the ship. But that wasn't hard, I mean, he could've done this for free ! Why did he want something in return, especially something so horrible ? There are bad, mean children in this world, but some adults are even worse._

_Wait. Thinking about it, that's quite logical. I mean, bad children will grow up to be bad adults. And these bad adults will have bad children who will become bad adults... is the entire world going to become evil ? That is scary. If it goes on like that, there will soon be no-one nice and kind anymore. Only evil people killing each others and getting blowjobs from children. This must be stopped. When I become a chocolatier, I swear I will only sell candy to good children. The good adults today must do something against their bad children, or the world is just going to go worse. I don't know how. After all, I'm only nine years old. I will find out when I'm older._

Charlie dropped the book on the desk and stepped back. His face grew pale, and he felt like his guts were making knots. Really, that was the sickest, most disgusting thing he had ever read. He was far from imagining how terrible the childhood of Willy Wonka had really been. He took a deep breath, sat down on the large chair, and found the strength to keep reading. He skipped a few pages and read an entry at random:

_February 1st, 1965._

_Dear Diary,_

_Guess what ? Today, it's my birthday ! I'm ten, already. Things are not going fast. There will be a lot of February 1st before I, Willy Wonka, become a great chocolatier. But I'm studying. I had a talk with Marjorie, today._

Charlie stopped. Wait, he was getting confused, he had gone too far. He went a few pages back and gave them a quick read, to learn that, since he arrived in Cherbourg, France, he was caught by the cops as he was hitch-hiking. They said they found him abandoned, starving, without any papers on him and unable to speak French. They then introduced him to a social worker, a rather hysteric woman who claimed out loud that she was going to protect him and find him a decent family, and basically didn't listen to anything he had to say. Which was rather a good thing, considering that he didn't really want to talk. She made up a whole story, taught him the French language, and put him in a foster family, the Châteauneuf - there's no plural form in French names - and his new name was then William Châteauneuf. They were a wealthy family living in Northern France, and they had three children, including a girl of his age, Marjorie. Things were going rather well for him, now, but as Charlie read, it was obvious he had not forgotten his promise to become a chocolatier and take revenge on bad children for what he had to go through. Plus, there was a kind of jealousy between him and Marjorie, because the girl could get anything she wanted from her parents and became terribly arrogant because of this. And without forgetting Jacques, the school bully, a stupid fat boy who picked on him, stealing his money and calling him "the orphan". That was sadly amusing, Wonka wrote in his diary, that wherever you went, bullies were all the same. With these new informations, he could resume his reading:

_I had a talk with Marjorie today. I told her that if there are so many evil people in the world, that's because there were too many bad children, and it keeps increasing. She disagreed, and explained me her parents told her that all the evil in the world came from the Commies. She couldn't even answer when I asked her what were the Commies. I explained her that when I lived in England, I met bullies, terrible children, and equally terrible adults - without telling all the details, of course - and there were the same here, in France, so that meant bad children were everywhere and they would raise bad children once adults if nobody stopped them. She went angry and called me a fool. She then made fun of me when I told her I had problems with Jacques. Dear Diary, she can't understand. I'm not a fool for understanding things she just can't. After all, she always had everything she wants, she lives like a princess, she didn't live what I had to pass through. She's just a spoiled brat, and that's what makes her so stupid. Spoiled kids shall be punished too, they're equally bad children as bullies and others who make their lives on others' misery. You know, Dear Diary, now I'm beginning to understand why Dad hated children so much. He wasn't a bad person, he just wanted to protect me from them, from these monsters. I really regret, now, that must be the first time. I didn't understand anything he told me, and I killed him for that. What a fool I was, then. All of these children must be punished, but how ? One day, there shall be a great purification, when all the children of the world should pass a test, and only the good ones, the nice ones, like me, should be allowed to live. But how ? How to make it possible ? I'm tired of waiting to be old to answer this question. I'm not going anywhere living in a normal family and going to school like a normal kid. I must begin my great project. I must find something to do now._

----------_  
_

Snake was still alive. That was the only thing sure for the girl, as she watched him crawling on the floor, helpless, with his bones broken. Didn't he mention earlier that he had a flexible bone structure, like her ? That had to be what saved his life. But that wasn't over yet: the pig was slowly bending down to pick up its knife, ready to finish him. No way !

Pushed by a sudden fear for her companion, Violet rushed into battle and threw her chain around Meat, like a lasso. She pulled, but she was definitely not strong enough. The ogre just turned to face her, and with an exasperated sigh, it grabbed the chain and disdainfully threw it away. Uh-oh... it was now approaching her. At least, it forgot to pick up the cleaver, but she was surrounded by machines, with nowhere to go. It shrieked and ran. Relying on her sole courage, the blue girl shrieked too and ran straight into her enemy with a karate kick. Its response was like a hammer, right into her head. She landed on a sort of metallic tray, too groggy to stand back up. Then, Meat clenched its enormous hands around her neck and began to choke her. She struggled with all the energy she had. Its head was so close to hers, and Jesus it was much uglier than she thought. The pig mask was rotting, so much that some parts of the pink skin had already taken an ill, blackish green shade. The foul smell of decay was literally poisoning, so much that if he weren't choking the poor girl, the smell would have killed her instead. Parts of the mask were even moving, shaking like jelly, letting her guess the proliferation of vermin underneath. Worse, its whole body was in such an equal state of decay that she couldn't tell of sure if the pig face was a mask or the real face. A maggot fell from one of the eyesockets and landed on her face. Meat didn't even mind. She tried her best not to either. Then, she felt she was winning as she crawled on her back on the tray, going as far from the monster as possible. She would soon be out of reach, and he would have to release her.

She heard a loud, continuous whistle behind her. She looked as far as she could to see a scroll sawblade at the other end of the tray, very close to her head. And this blade just got activated, turning at full speed. Trapped ! If she stopped moving, Meat would crack her neck, and if she kept moving, the blade would cut her head like a watermeleon ! She was now so close she could feel the wind. She closed her eyes.

_Snake, _she prayed silently, for the choking cut her speech, _wake up, Snake ! I need you know !_

_Crash ! _Salvation did not come from him. It came from above: the heavy concrete ceiling cracked open over their heads, and a gigantic frame dropped, à la Batman, right on the ogre, bringing it with it in the fall. Meat lost its grip, and Violet immediately jumped off the tray, safely.

There was such a confusion, now ! The destruction of the ceiling had caused considerable amounts of brown dust to invade the air around, plunging the room into an opaque, coughing fog. She couldn't see anything a meter from her. She could only hear the confused and startling clash of torn chains and pulverized machines as, merely a few feet from her, Meat and the mysterious, gigantic savior, were engaged in a chaotic wrestle. King Kong fighting the Tyrannosaure. That was a war zone !

The girl bent down and crept toward Snake, avoiding the massive shadows. He was starting to get up, groggy, and again, she heard the disgusting crack of bones as, in a stretch, he set his spine back in place.

"Are you okay ?"

"Yeah," he groaned, "but that's always kind of painful. What's going on, I can't see a thing ?"

"I don't know, but we'd better not stay here, or we'll get crushed like insects. Let's just hope the other guy's a good guy..."

They crept to the nearest wall and proceeded to follow it until they found a door that would lead them to safety. In the middle of the room, Meat collapsed, making the ground quake, black blood pouring out of its snout. What kind of monster could physically challenge such a thing ? The answer came when a part of the fog turned clearer, revealing the opponent, standing tall, hitting its voluminous chest with its oak-large fists, roaring like a bear, in sheer rage, its bloodshot eyes turned literally red. That _was_ King Kong. A rabid King Kong... with red hair and a striped shirt.

"Augustus ?" Violet called. "Is that you ?"

Augustus didn't answer, he didn't even mind her presence. His whole mind seemed to be focused on the pig-faced ogre.

"Augustus ! It's me, Violet ! Violet Beauregard ! Augustus !"

James squeezed her shoulder, asking her to stop.

"He's not listening," he said. "Let's go, it's too dangerous here."

Already, Meat was standing back on its feet, and the two wrestlers clinched and resumed throwing each others on the tables, trays and machines, finishing off those that weren't already destroyed. They had gone insane. On their side, the two kids found a door and rushed through it, locking it behind.

"Oksana !" Violet screamed as she began to run back into the room. Snake gently, but firmly, blocked her way.

"She will be fine if she stays in her cell," he said. "We must go on, find Wonka, and stop him. This is the final stage, Violet. I'm counting on you. You hear me ?"

"Yes. Okay. You can count on me. Let's go."

They followed the narrow corridor they were in. It was almost quiet, except for the noise of the fiery battle going on in the octogonal room. Episodic quakes taught them that the two colosses were now testing the toughness of the walls.

"What did they do to Augustus ?" she asked. "You've seen him, he's a real monster now !"

"I don't know..."

"And that thing, that... Meat. I've never seen anything so sick before. Where did he find it ? What's it made of, it's nearly invincible !"

"Violet, I don't know the answer to any of your questions ! That Wonka guy is just... I think we'll never know how sick he really is, that's all."

**"Yes, you can say I have a bat in the belfry..."**

They froze at this loud, bodiless voice that echoed through the gallery. That was doubtlessly Wonka's voice.

**"Tell me, children... have you ever danced with the Devil in the moonlight ?"**

"What does it mean ?" Violet shouted. "Show yourself, you bastard !"

**"Just follow this way, and you'll know..."**

A freezing, evil laugh followed. The kids continued. Soon, the maniac laughter was accompanied with other sounds coming from the end of the gallery, high-pitched screams, cries, yells... screams of children. And a damn lot of children.

**"That's it, come closer... closer... and you'll see... you'll see the greatness of the one you dared treat like a fool... closer..."**

They eventually reached the end, and arrived in... they remained in the doorway, their mouths agap. They couldn't have conceived that. It was much, much bigger than they thought. The laughter came even louder.

**"Now, it's time to meet your enemy, children. Here is the truth behind this Factory. This is my true genius, and once I have defeated you, you will be next. Behold !"**

----------**  
**

_May 15th, 1965._

_Dear Diary,_

_Hey, good news ! You remember when, a few months ago, I said I should do something now ? Well, I did it, finally. I can write now because the warden allowed me to keep you and a pen with me. The room's not that bad, you know. It's very narrow, and all white, and there's a grid in front of the window, but the bed is comfortable. Madame Châteauneuf came an hour ago. She likes me to call her Mom, and I do it to please her, but I know she's not my Mom. I never had any Mom. She was in tears and asked me why I did such a terrible thing. Because I had to, that was simple. She said that was very serious, the trial begins tomorrow, and I could be sent to a prison for children, or to a mental institution, depending on what the doctors will conclude. I don't wanna go with the loonies, because I know I'm not crazy. I'm just way superior than everyone. They are not intelligent and not strong. They hide behind their laws and think it is fair to protect bad children, and they will say every person - like me - who disagrees is a loony and should be locked in. But I know the truth. I know what is good for the rest of the world, because, hey, I'm Willy Wonka, the soon-to-be greatest chocolatier of all times, and I know what I did was fair._

_I just decided I had enough, and it was time to begin. That was after school. I brought a baseball bat with me and hid it in my backpack. When the bell rang, I ran out of the building and went to hide behind a tree. I put on gloves and took my bat, and waited. When Jacques came out, I jumped on him, the poor fellow didn't see anything coming. I want to laugh when I think back about it. I beat his fat ass with the bat until he fell down and begged me to stop, but I didn't stop. I continued. I had to make sure he had learned the lesson for good. So I beat him, until my bat turned red, and he stopped crying. Then I discovered he had no nose anymore._

_The doctors said he was in a terrible situation and could die at any moment. The cops asked me why I did that. I didn't answer. I don't have to justify my actions to them, they wouldn't understand. They said I will finish my life in a crack-house. Certainly not. They will never lock me in. I didn't make all the way here to end up like that. I will carry on, whatever happens._

_I feel tired..._

A drop fell on the paper, and Charlie realized at this moment that he was crying. He had been so absorbed in the tale that he had not noticed it before. He totally empathized with the kid who wrote these lines. So much that he could hardly imagine he was the same guy as the nutcrack who tried to kill them several times. His hands were trembling so much he could hardly turn the page. The next entry was surprisingly different. The style was much more fluid, much easier to the eye. The shaking childish writing had disappeared, for a pleasant narrow, nearly itallic adult writing. And there wasn't only one or two paragraphs, the entry developped on several pages. The date was shockingly different, too:

_February 1st, 1985. _

_Dear Diary,_

_You know what day it is, today ? I'm sure you remember. My birthday. I am thirty, today. Can you just realize it's been nearly twenty years since I last wrote to you ? So much happened in these twenty years, and to be honest, I'm ashamed to confess that I had forgotten you until very recently. But we must be reunited now, in this historic day: as a birthday present, I and Mr Wilkinson are opening our first business, the Cherry Street Candy Shop. There is already a huge crowd at the door, waiting for me. A few days ago, I gave some of my own chocolates, from a recipe I invented, for free, and all the townfolks are getting addicted, they even called my treats the most wonderful things ever given for a human to taste. I can hardly hide my pride. Finally, my dream is taking shape. It's only a small shop, but the benefits will be huge, and I will soon get rich enough to pursue my dear project. Do you remember ? The revenge. No, not a revenge... punishment._

_Dear Diary, I think you must be some kind of lost, maybe you should know what happened in the last twenty years: Jacques survived. The judgement for nearly killing him and not showing any remorse was clear: I had psychiatric issues. Mental institution. Okay. I agreed and stayed there for a while. I behaved the way they wanted me to behave, and said what they wanted me to say. When I told you I was way superior than them ! They were so naïve, so easy to manipulate. I even learned to cry and talk about very intimate things - all lies - during psychiatric interviews. After a while, they loosened surveillance on me and allowed me to do various activities. I followed lessons in cuisine and gardening. I made my first steps in the way of becoming a chocolatier in an asylum. As for gardening... they didn't see anything coming, poor guys. The doctors said I was improving, but whatever happened, they wouldn't let me out without psychiatric supervision, and once I was released, they would put me in another foster family. No way ! I left by my own means. Using gardening. Did you know you could make a very good gunpowder by mixing chemical fertilizer with sugar ? Apparently, they didn't, and when they learned it, that was too late to stop me. Bye-bye, loonies !_

_Belgium. I always dreamed to reach this country, to learn how they make chocolate. When I finally got there, I had no family, no money, and not even a "clean" identity: Willy Wonka was allegedly dead in England, and William Châteauneuf was a runaway sicko kid in France. I resumed my life as a bum, the way I did in Portsmouth. I was perfectly aware I wasn't going anywhere. Until I met this man... Rutger Van Knuppel. He was the leader of a Dutch bikers gang called the Wild Fire Motorcycle Club. The gang's lifestyle was based solely on endless partying, hard liquors, psychedelic rock, and pot smoking. Van Knuppel himself was a cracked wreck of a human being who claimed - among other things - that he was born in the eighteenth century and he was the father of modern usage of recreational drugs. He immediately adopted me. Took me to the Netherlands. Taught me to live, to really live, to accept myself the way I am and to find in myself the force to reach my goal. I think I would've killed myself without him. He gave me hope. I sniffed my first line of cocaine when I was thirteen. That was the most intense experience of my life. They later said I had a bad trip, but that is incorrect. For when I was flying, far away from reality, I had a vision. Of a world of candy gardens, chocolate rivers, vivisection labs and hellish furnaces. A world of beauty and horror. A world of light and darkness. A world of happiness and torture. A world of innocence-coated misery. A world of thirteen basements. This night, the vision was clear, and it wasn't a lie. I saw what my life was meant to be. This night, I, Willy Wonka, was born for real. _

_Rotterdam was another turning point. I was fourteen. It was a rainy night, and with the guys of the club, we had an accident. Something very stupid, isn't it ? I fell from the motorcycle and broke my leg badly. The cops were already here, and Rutger didn't have the time to come back and pick me up. They abandoned me, but I don't have any resentment. They had no choice. The cops brought me to a hospital and called a surgeon to heal my leg. This surgeon was Jonas Wilkinson. He did an excellent job, though I had to use a cane for a while, and we became good friends. I was declared an orphan and he ended up being my foster father. My official name then was Walter Wincott. He is an excellent man. He offered me a good education and paid me courses in confectionery. Later, we got separated when I attended a special cuisine school in Switzerland. More than giving me the means to become a chocolatier, he taught me his art, medicine. He said he was fascinated by me, by my brain. He said I'm a pure genius, the kind he never saw in his whole life, and whatever I decide to do, he would always back me up and one day, when I grow superior to him, he will be my assistant, my right-hand man. I felt confident enough to tell him about my project, the one I had since I was nine. He was totally excited by the idea. I learned then that his job as a surgeon was a way to satisfy his greatest passion, his obsession: to know how much pain a human body can handle. A talent I could use. I remembered my vision. He and his art fit perfectly in it. He taught me everything he knew. Until he let me practice my new knowledge: there was a high school near the house, and one girl there was known to be a real terror to her classmates, brutalizing and belittling them whenever she could. One morning, I found her tied up in our basement. My test, he said. I worked for thirteen hours before she died. That's a record._

_At the end of my classes, I was second best at the prestigious confectionery school I was attending, in Switzerland. Second best was a position I couldn't withstand. The first best was that obnoxious know-it-all, Michel. Michel was more intelligent than everyone and never missed an occasion to show it. Michel was so self-confident that he believed himself as superior to everyone. Even me. But he was wrong, in the end. He wasn't smarter than me. He wasn't smart enough to notice the rat poison in his sandwich before it was too late. Without this obstacle, I finished my education without any problem._

_And here I am now, Dear Diary, back in England, back under my real name, Willy Wonka - it's been so long nobody ever noticed this Wonka was the same as the little boy who disappeared twenty years ago - and about to open my first shop ! This is not over yet, you know. The vision I had is a huge project. My great Chocolate Factory will need a lot of time, a lot of space, and most importantly, overwhelming sums of money to complete. But I'm confident. I always reached my goals, so far. Why would it be any different now ?_

_I have to leave you, my friend, the customers are getting impatient. I must meet up with my future. _

_February 14th, 1985._

_Dear Diary,_

_It is with great sadness that I'm writing these lines. The Cherry Street shop is running perfectly. Our benefices are huge. A few days ago, I contacted my old friend Rutger Van Knuppel and he sent me some cocaine to experiment with a new recipe. Of course, only I and Mr Wilkinson know about this. It's working great, really. Nobody noticed. I think if I can use drugs in tiny quantities to create an addiction in my customers, our benefits will increase sky-high._

_But this is not the reason I'm writing these lines. Today is Valentine's Day, and I thought it was the perfect day to come back, to revive the young Willy Wonka to the only person I really cared for: Rosemary. I found her address and showed up in my best suit, with flowers and a box of my finest chocolates. It was a real shock: when I arrived at her door, it's a child who opened. A little boy, no older than ten. I was confused and asked if it was the house of Rosemary Kilmaster. What he said dug into my heart like a cold blade:_

_"It's my Mom, but her name's Rosemary Gibson."_

_Yes, Dear Diary. She grew up without me. She made her life without me. After twenty years, she forgot me, and now she's a teacher, she is married, and she has a son. The kid asked something, I think he wanted to know if I was the Willy Wonka he saw on the newspapers, but I didn't listen. All of this looked so futile to me, now... I dropped my presents and ran away. That was the best I could do._

_It's been a few hours ago. Now, I'm alone in my bedroom in the dark, and my tears won't stop. What can I do ?_

_February 18th, 1985._

_Dear Diary,_

_I woke up this morning in a hospital. The first thing I felt was a terrible pain in my forearms. Mr Wilkinson and one of my best employees, Joseph Bucket, were here, caring for me. They taught me that in the past few days, I fell into depression and wouldn't leave my room. They taught me they brought me here, in the hospital, after I had a cocaine overdose and tried to commit suicide by cutting myself. I don't remember anything of this. Last thing I remember is Rosemary Gibson... how could she do this to me ? I should be happy for her. She made her way, after all, and she deserves it. However, I remember some people I knew at school who do not deserve a good life. Those who made my life a Hell, where are they now ?_

_Mr Wilkinson explained that I should stay in the hospital for a few days, to rest, and he would run the shop alone with Mr Bucket. I have no reason to worry. I should focus on getting better. Yes, I will._

_And I know exactly how._

_February 23rd, 1985._

_Dear Diary,_

_I feel so good today ! I'm leaving the hospital and coming back to business. I didn't waste any second of the week I spent here. Research. I did a lot of research. And then, I called someone. I wanted an effective person. The best. The cream of the crop. I finally made my choice, on a Russian guy who called himself "The Patriarch". He showed up the very day after I called him. Call that being fast ! I could understand his nickname for he was very old, but of an impressive stature. He assured me the work would be done without any problem. I just had to pay him now, and he would disappear forever._

_Two days after, I laughed when I opened the newspaper. I laughed when I learned that a promising TV actor, Lucas Goldwing, "killed himself" by throwing his radio in his bath. I laughed when I learned that a successful race rider, Gerald Christopherson, had a "regrettable accident" when his brakes gave way as he was over 200 mph. And I laughed when Gustav Lambert, Member of Parliament for the Conservative Party in Northern Ireland, was "terminated" by IRA operatives, according to the police. I laughed and it pleased the doctors a lot, good thing they didn't know what made me laugh._

_The ghosts from the past are dead. I will finally sleep well. Farewell, Luke, Gerald and Gus. See you in Hell._

_March 4th, 1988._

_Dear Diary,_

_Something exciting happened. A few days ago, I had a call from Rutger who said a friend of his wanted to meet me. I had lunch with the man who called himself "King" Bathory today. A very excentric fellow - in comparison, I'm a monk - who dressed like a rockstar and only talked in German. I learned he's actually an American millionaire. He first congratulated me for the incredible success of my candy company, and then told me he was told I was searching for financial partners to build a large Chocolate Factory. He told me he was interested in providing me with all the funds I need if in exchange I built a massive underground facility - really, he gave me the size he wants, that is huge, large as a city - under my factory. This underground is part of a future project of his, and until completion of this project - in thirty years ! - I could use it however I please. Of course such a project seemed weird, but it was just too good to be true. The underground he wants is exactly the thing that I have in mind, the thirteen basements I saw when I was younger. Such an occasion would never show up again ! So I signed in immediately. We have already found a field. Construction is beginning in a few months._

_Finally, Dear Diary. My vision, my dream, will come true._

_February 1st, 1991._

_Dear Diary,_

_My birthday again ! I'm thirty-six. Can you imagine I'm thirty-six already ? I can hardly see it when I look at myself in the mirror. With a strict diet composed only of the food I make myself, I just don't look like I'm aging. Today is a historic moment. I cut the ribbon. Of course, construction of the basements is still far from finished, but the main building is standing, and the main production lines are operational._

_Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory has opened its gates. I can't wait to begin._

_July 19th, 1993._

_Dear Diary,_

_Our production keeps increasing, and our benefits have reached a level I had never even dared to dream of. Each new candy I release creates mass enthusiasm that could almost be defined as hysteria. Really, I even heard that some teachers gave their kids a day off so that they could buy the brand new treat. But now, I'm beginning to see the drawbacks of my success: I have to slow down and even sometimes stop the construction of my personal labs, especially my special research facility in Basement 13, because of some nosy employees. I'm considering the idea of genetic engineering, for according to Mr Wilkinson, with sufficient funds, I might be able to produce my own, faithful and loyal employees. Such a project will be a long and hard road, but I'm sure that in the long run, it will prove to be highly beneficial._

_A rival chocolatier, Arthur Slugworth, has recently developped a brand of ice-cream that doesn't melt, even in the hottest summer time. Problem is, I have already developped this product two years ago. I think there are leaks in my Factory, spies among my employees. This is extremely worrying. If someone happens to discover I use cocaine and other hallucinogenic drugs in my recipes, the outcome will be catastrophic, there will be a huge scandal and I'll have to stop everything I worked so hard for. I cannot allow this. I'm afraid, Dear Diary, I'm beginning to distrust everyone. On Mr Wilkinson's advices, I filed a lawsuit against Slugworth for plagiarism. Which means I will have much more public attention than usual. God knows how much I hate this. I hate getting in contact with the public. The first reason is practical, of course: if I show up too much, someone will sooner or later make the link between me, Willy Wonka, and the lost son of Dr Wilbur Wonka. And nobody could possibly trust a chocolatier who killed his own father, escaped from a sanitarium in France, and went underground._

_But that's not the only reason. The rare times I go out, I see all these people, all these greedy people surround me, oppress me. Spoiled children who want to kiss me with their dirty mouths full of chocolate, and their horrible parents who tell me how great I am, who give me Colgate smiles and cover me with hypocritical compliments, just for the sake of being seen in the company of the famous Willy Wonka. When I was a runaway kid, these people kicked me away and called me a bum. Now, they treat me like a God. This so hypocritical. So lame, so disgusting. The real world is only made of lies, deception and violence. The Factory is a world where I rule, a world that I created where everything is honest because I made it that way. The real world is not a good place to live. The Factory is._

_I don't want to go out. Never again._

_June 6th, 1996._

_Dear Diary,_

_Great progresses have been made. It's been long since I've last been in such a good mood. I won the trial against Slugworth standing on my head, and required so much compensation he almost went bankrupt. That will teach him a lesson. I then used the threat of massive espionage against my company as an excuse to fire all my employees. Of course, I had to face the wrath of the syndicates, which I did by resorting to bribery. I can see them again, all those greedy pigs who instantly lost the purpose of their fight as soon as I produced a handful of bucks. I fed them, and they were happy. Pigs ! Now, they think they won because they got my money. Poor fellas... it's only a matter of time before they learn that in the land of the pigs, the butcher is king._

_Actually, I took the final decision to fire them all after one of my employees got too curious and discovered a skin-peeling machine that was supposed to be installed in Basement 13. This employee quickly discovered the joys of a thrilling ride into the garbage chute. Shortly after this "tragic accident", I was finally alone in the Factory, and I realized I now had my hands totally free. I had to really begin my experiments._

_Already, I have calculated that, according to the amount of psychoactive and addictive substances I put in the candies, a child who consumes Wonka products on a regular basis, on a range of about one or two bars a day - only terribly rotten kids eat so much candy - is unknowingly addicted, and is a potential junkie. That is not enough. Making kids drugged and addicted so as to increase my profits is only the first part of the plan. I still have to think of a way to really punish them. I thought that by studying said children closely enough, I could find an answer. That's what Basement 13, the labs, and all the machines were for. I immediately took contacts with the mafia groups of Eastern Europe and former Soviet Union, along with Middle East warlords, and I also began to feed corruption in Africa and America. I took every chance I could have to gain access to experimentation subjects. Some people are so greedy they are willing to sell their own children for a few bucks. The human nature will never cease to disgust me. I know. I know most Third World children are innocent and don't deserve this fate. I know this, but I have for mission to clean the world of its most miserable subjects._

_These children are a necessary sacrifice._

----------

It was a street. That really was the first image that came to their minds. In front of them extended a large one-way concrete path, exactly like an avenue, that stretched over to a massive door, far ahead, nearly out of their sight. Though they were still underground, the "street" was bright, heavily lit by halogen projectors. But the worse was not the greatness of the passage. On each side of the path, there stood several imposing structures, scaffoldings that erected straight, like buildings, wired with ladders and platforms that formed several levels.

Cries. Desperate pleas.

All the inferior levels, up to the fifth and six levels of the structures, evoked a carceral facility, holding several cells, no, cages, oversized rabbit hutches with black cast iron bars through which the children were looking at them. Countless children. Locked by groups of two or three in these cages too small for them, they were crying and looking at the newcomers with teary eyes illuminated by a glimpse of hope. White, Black, Asian, children of all races, screaming and pleading in Russian, Chinese, Korean, Spanish, Arabic, or obscure African dialects. Though most of these languages were unknown to both James and Violet, it was easy to guess what they meant: they were crying for help.

"Oh my God," Violet whispered in shock, "they're the Third World kids !"

"Yep," Snake confirmed somberly. "The _Subjects_."

They followed the path and moved further through what looked more and more like a farming factory. The children did not one second turned their eyes away from them. Some of them were awfully pale and looked ill. _How long ? _Violet thought. _How long since they last saw the sunlight ? How in this world can a man be so inhumane ?_

"What are we gonna do ?" she asked.

"Wonka must be lurking somewhere right ahead. We continue."

"But we've got to help them !"

"No ! Not now. Helping them out will be no use as long as we have not stopped the monster ! We will come back to save them later."

"Are you sure of that ?" she exploded in rage. "Or maybe are you just going to find Veruca and get the Hell out to get paid ?"

"What ? You're crazy !"

"How the Hell can I trust someone like you ? You're just a soldier after all ! I bet if Wonka hired you to kill us, you'd do it with pleasure !"

He slapped her. Strongly. This put an immediate end to her outburst.

"What's happening to you ? You're getting nuts ! You can't leave me now, we're almost finished, and as long as it is not all over, you must stay with me and help ! I would never have made all of this if you weren't by my side. Do you get me ?"

"Yes... I... I'm sorry, it's just..." she began to cry. "I just can't believe all of this is happening ! This is so... _evil_ !"

He froze. _Clink ! _He heard the mechanism at the exact moment it triggered. Somewhere up ahead. And he already knew where the trap would fall.

"Violet ! Watch out !"

Only this time, he wasn't fast enough. A whole mesh of black chains fell on the helpless girl before they could do anything, and like a net, lifted up with their prey. No matter how hard she struggled, she was totally caught in the heavy metal web. Snake rushed to help her, of course. The children's screams went even louder, and panicked, like a warning, but the language mash they produced by speaking all at a time made the thing impossible to understand. A thin needle-like sensation on his shoulder brought the answer. He quickly took the needle off his back and saw it was a tiny wooden spear, the kind of weapon that could be used by a...

There were ten of them perched on the very top of the scaffoldings, five on each side of the path. Plus three other that jumped down at his level. All armed with spears or bows. Oompa Loompas. The good old Oompa Loompas.

_Impulse._

Just in time did he avoid their attacks. Their weapons were sure not big enough to do more than scratches, but they could be dangerous if they aimed at the eyes - which, of course, they were doing. These little bastards were even pretty accurate. He drew his whip and striked. The dwarves were small and fast, and they dodged with ease. And fighting under a rain of arrows was not convenient at all. But the tone in the children's voices had changed. They were cheering him. Beautiful. Better not disappoint them.

Dodge ! Focus... aim and strike ! He cracked his whip, and the second after, he was rewarded with the satisfying sight of a tiny head flying, snapped off its owner's shoulders. One down, two to go !

Violet let out a short yell at what felt like an electric shock. She had just received a small arrow in her butt ! Shit, these midgets were aiming at her now ! She resumed her struggling, kicking even more violently in the air, but she was too solidly tied and the chains would not yield. Beside her, Snake had just caught a second Oompa Loompa with his whip and thrown it against a scaffold, breaking all the creature's tiny bones in the shock. And the others, up ahead, were now shooting at her ! Only one solution left...

She took a deep breath. It would be very painful, but she could do it. With a swift move, she snapped her knee off its cap. She had to clench her teeth hard not to scream, but when the pain eased, she found that she could still move her leg normally. She really was that flexible. She focused, trying to ignore the pain, and a few seconds later, it's a blue disjointed rag doll that crawled out of the chain web and back on the floor. A few feet from her, the last of the three Oompa Loompas was giving Snake a hard time, graciously dodging all his attacks. It hadn't seen her.

Taking advantage of the momentaneous pause in the rain of arrows - seemed like the little guys on top were running out of ammunitions - she crawled to the dwarf with calm, and when it passed just at her range, she caught it by its spike-shaped hair and properly tossed it against a cage. What happened next was bloody but so beautiful: the children, so enthusiastic at getting their revenge on their tormentors, reached out for the little man and... let's just say they finished it.

Snake was breathless. Enjoying a second of calm, he rested against a light pole. As Violet tried to stand up to rejoin him, she had another shot of pain as her joints automatically set back to normal position. Just a shot of pain, and she was normal again, with no consequences. Her limbs couldn't be broken anymore.

"You okay ?" he asked. "That was pretty good. Don't worry, it takes time, but you'll get used to it."

She opened her mouth to say something, but she was immediately interrupted by a loud, deafening shriek. A shriek she knew just too well. There it stood in the doorway they had come from, bloody, wounded, but still so furious and determined. They didn't know what had happened to Augustus, but Meat wasn't done yet, it was back to them for more.

"Oh, shit !" they spat out in a choir.

And to make matters worse, a whistle called them from the top of the structures, and they watched only to see the ten "sniper" Oompa Loompas giving them mischievous smiles while aiming with their bows - and they seemed to have found enough arrows to attack Fort Alamo.

"Double shit !"

The ogre charged, but it was still far. However, with the monster at their level and all the archers over their heads, they were clearly surrounded.

"I'm getting really tired of all this shit !" Violet shouted as if she had lost her mind. "You take care of the Oompa Loompas, Snake. Leave Meat to me."

"That's insane, you can't take it all by yourself."

"I have a plan. Trust me. Now, go !"

No time left for questions. The girl watched her friend use his whip like a grapnel to climb up the structure. She didn't move, and waited, even though Meat was running straight into her. The arrows started raining around again, but she didn't mind, they weren't aiming at her. According to all the lashes she heard, the Oompa Loompas were too busy up there to mind about her.

"Come on, you dirty piece o' Big Mac. Come on..."

The ogre arrived at contact... and didn't see anything coming. With a swift and perfectly timed move, Violet stepped aside like a toreador, only lifting her foot in the move to perform a leg sweep. The collision was hard. Really, she felt the pain radiating all along her leg, but the satisfaction to see Meat trip and fall was worth it all. She laughed. She mocked it, and it knew it. It stood back up, furious, and charged again. Again, she dodged and sweeped. It worked perfectly, but it was just the beginning of her plan.

The girl stood in front of an empty cage. Around her, three dead dwarves fell from the platform. The ogre charged. So predictible... it was so stupid it had almost lost all its fear potential. She stepped aside, and as planned, the enormous pig head crashed against the cage and remained stuck in the iron bars. It began to shriek, this time in panick, and buck to get away. That was almost comical, but she wasn't here to laugh.

She ran away, following the path straight back to the passage they had come from, but stopped half-way. She turned back. Meat had to destroy the cage, but it was out, and more furious than ever. It charged. She knew it was far, and by the time he reached her, she would have all the time to focus. That was the plan, now she would finish it. Problem was... she had one chance out of a hundred to make it work ! She flexed her muscles and stretched her arms, palms out, in front of her, like a Thai boxer. That was a very dangerous move. Something she had never done but on wooden planks before. She closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. She needed all the energy she could gather for this one. A one hit wonder.

Contact. The pig head dove straight into her abdomen, emptying all the air from her lungs. Everything was going in slow motions. She saw herself very clearly putting her hands on the fat, filthy shoulders, and she took hold on them to lift herself from the ground. For a few meters, she was really carried by the raging pig-man, until she judged they had reached enough a speed. Then, she put her feet back on the floor and stiffened. The two opposed pushes were overwhelming, and for a moment, she was positive she would be crushed. She couldn't push enough to stop it, but she could slow it down until she had a good sight to attack. Her feet began to hurt like Hell. They were burning. Heck, there really was smoke coming out of her shoes ! Ignoring the excruciating pain, she forced on her arms with all the strength her forty kilograms allowed her to. Her forehead felt like it was about to explode. Then finally, she had pushed herself far enough from Meat for the top of the pig mask to appear at her sight. She didn't hesitate.

A scream, no articulate words but a blank scream, sheer rage coming from the deepest in her entrails, and she lifted her arm over her head, hand open and fingers jointed, as to form a blade with her hand. Then she striked ! Her "knife-hand" hit directly between the monster's eyes, strong enough for her fingers to hurt. Meat immediately slowed down and stopped charging. Its eyes went dull as it looked at its enemy, this petite girl who looked so inoffensive, without really understanding what was happening at this moment. For a second, nothing happened. Then, the pig-man let out a cough-like noise, and right then, thick gurgling black blood splattered out of the snout, the ears, and even the eyesockets, in impressive quantities. Violet's tracksuit was practically repainted black. She knew what was happening. That was a fatal blow. She knew perfectly that, behind that ugly pig mask, the real head was mashed, like an egg struck by a hammer. The ogre knelt down, and slowly, dramatically, fell on its side, not to move anymore. Meat was dead.

She stayed in front of the body, in shock, not believing that she had actually done this. She was at least sure it would take weeks for her hands and feet to feel better after that. At this moment, the last of the Oompa Loompas fell out of the platform, dead. Violet raised her head to look at Snake. He was pretty far, but she saw clearly he was giving her a thumb up. Smiling shyly, she answered him. Then, he manipulated something, like a lever, and with an electric hum, all the doors of all the cages swung open. In a matter of seconds, the empty, creepy street-like gallery had become a literal sea of children, jumping out of their prison, hugging each others and expressing their joy in all their different languages. They gathered round the dead body, their mouths agap, and then they looked up at Violet as if she were some kind of Goddess. The vision was heartwarming and she couldn't help but snigger.

"Violet," Snake said as he rejoined her, "you rock. No joke, you rock."

The children stepped back, like scared. The girl turned round to face Augustus, who was standing in the doorway. His shirt was torn and his body wounded, other than that he seemed to be going rather well. And he had lost that glimmer of madness that had scared her so much. He looked confused.

"Wh... what happened ? It's all like... where the Hell are we ?"

"You don't remember anything ?"

"N-no... I... there are some vague images... of a crazy-looking mansion, and I don't know why I was running after Charlie... and then, I was fighting with a giant pig... and some heavy big chair fell on my head, and I fainted... and now..."

He looked at the dead body too, and it made him even more confused.

"The pig ? But what the Hell..."

"Listen, Augustus," Violet said with a warm tone, "you don't have to worry. The pig really existed and I killed it. But trust me, I don't think we'd have done it without your help. I don't know for the rest, maybe Wonka gave you hallucinations or something... along with a heavy dose of steroides. But we don't have time to talk. All you have to know is that Wonka is lurking in this place, and he's holding Veruca hostage. We've lost contact with Charlie and Mike, but we've got to stop Wonka before something terrible happens."

He sniggered. "So Wonka is the bad guy ?"

"He is. Are you with us ?"

"Okay, then... let's get going, I guess..."

"Okay," Snake intervened, "we've got to move on."

He declared something in Russian, and one of the children stepped closer. They had a short talk, still in Russian, and then the mercenary said to his friends, in English:

"The kid said there is a surgery in this basement, in the middle of a meat storage, right ahead, on the other side of the cell block. Wonka must be there with Veruca. I told them to go look for Oksana and wait for us here. We're almost there !"

"Then let's not lose anymore time."

----------

_August 29th, 1997._

_Dear Diary,_

_I have found the solution. I've been thinking long to get to that point, lots of sweat and blood - not mine - has poured until I finally got to the Final Solution. Children who eat too much Wonka chocolate become addicts, I already knew that. Now, what I just discovered is that drug addict kids are much more receptive to microwave-induced manipulation of brain functions. Therefore, if I build a radiotelescope antenna that will relay and spread such microwaves, the brain of every drugged child in the world will be affected... indefinitely. Touch them all at once. That's pure genius. I have already begun to work with my test subjects. I have built special modules that record their brain waves during periods of intense suffering. The idea is to collect enough data to artificially reproduce the darkest thoughts, the greatest fear, loathing, pain and sorrow a human can experience. In other words, I intend to create artificial nightmares that I will spread through microwaves to trap the ugly, the nasty, the greedy children who proved their worthlessness by eating too much of my chocolate, into an everlasting bad trip. Trapped in their own Hell. The wish of the young Willy Wonka will be granted. That will be my vendetta._

_Wirehead Project is commencing._

_By the way, my first genetically engineered employees are born. They're not perfect, though. Rather small, and rather creepy, but they are highly intelligent and easily manipulated into believing whatever I tell them. That's just what I need. I even found them a name: Oompa Loompas._

_February 1st, 2003._

_Dear Diary,_

_Another birthday, another year goes by, and I begin to despair. Even though my body isn't weakening the least, I'm growing old, and I feel hurried by Time. I can use my science to rejuvenate myself, but it cannot last forever. I have to achieve the purpose of my whole life before I leave this world of sorrow._

_My research isn't progressing at all. The neuro-transmitter is perfectly operational, but it's like having a new shiny gun without anything but blanks to shoot. The negative energy I collect from my subjects is totally insufficient to trigger an everlasting schizo-delusional disorder on the rotten kids. So many subjects have been used... I tried everything, new drugs, new forms of tort... "treatment", I totally suppressed the anaesthetic drugs I used to employ for the most gruesome experiments, but nothing works, I just can't get enough sheer darkness from my subjects' souls to produce anything more than a harmless, mundane nightmare. It's as if they were struggling all along to keep a part of their innocence, a piece of hope and comfort hidden very deep inside, so deep I cannot reach it. I also attempted something weird, by using human flesh from my subjects as a "secret ingredient", hoping to create some kind of a Creutzfeldt-Jakob epidemic among my customers... total failure. But at least, now I produce candies that taste like nothing else in the world, and my sales have even increased !_

_So much time wasted... I think getting my subjects from the Third World was a bad idea. When living in poverty, children are victims, and therefore compensate by being much nicer than the brats of industrialized nations. What I need are true brats, rotten beyond the point of salvation, kids that don't even know the notions of fairness, values, generosity and gentleness. They must be selfish, superior, arrogant, aggressive, in order to be broken in my labs, and then give me all the dark energy I need. But there is one problem: poor children were easy preys. In a Western country, the disappearance of a child is an event that appeals to all the nation. I will need to proceed with extreme precautions. And most of all, how could I be sure I have found the ones I need ?_

_October 31st, 2004._

_Dear Diary,_

_I'd like to celebrate this special day: Dad died this day, exactly forty years from now. Quite a dark anniversary, don't you think ? If only he were here by my side... he would be proud of me. I hated him, but I ended up understanding precisely how stupid and despicable children really are. More than that, I put it in action._

_I have finally found out how to get the perfect subjects to complete Wirehead Project. After all, I am now the most successful chocolatier in the world. I even heard that in certain parts of Europe, children recognize the "W" of Wonka better than the "S" of Superman. And I also know that, as I never set foot out of my Chocolate Factory in so many years, and never let anyone in, except of course Mr Wilkinson and my dear Oompa Loompas, there are lots of myths about me, a popular curiosity that is at its climax._

_Now, just imagine that, suddenly, I decided to let five, and only five, children visit my Chocolate Factory and all its secrets. Just imagine that any of the five chosen ones wins a lifetime supply of chocolate and other treats, and one of them, at the end of the Tour, will win a wonderful prize that goes far beyond his imagination - and, of course, that doesn't even exist - what would happen ? I'll tell you: an out-of-control competition. All the children of the world will fight each others to be one of the five lucky winners. And only the strongest will win, that is to say, the nastiest bullies, the most vicious, greedy and insensitive. Exactly what I need. Of course, among their parents, there will be too much of a hype about the contest for them to worry much. After all, what kind of harm can an innocent, shy chocolatier do to their kids ? If he's a candymaker, that means he loves children, after all. And I really don't fit with the popular image of the dirty middle-aged fat pedophile in a worn-out raincoat. People only judge you by the way you look... so superficial. It will be piece of cake to lure them in my trap. Then I'll just have to pretend they all died in terrible accidents they triggered by their carelessness in spite of all the warnings I gave them, pay a good lawyer, buy the jury, and a few months later, everyone will have forgotten. And if it doesn't occur as planned, I'm already building a second neuro-transmitter in a franchise in Paris, in case I'd have to flee. Everything was already thought of._

_In a month from now, I'm beginning the Willy Wonka Golden Ticket Contest. I chose the most appropriate date for the actual Factory Tour to begin: February 1st. My fiftiest birthday. Doesn't time fly ! _

_February 1st, 2005._

_Dear Diary,_

_It is 9:53 am, very precisely. I am just writing these lines before I have to face the crowd of greedy sheeple. The Golden Ticket Contest was like a tidal wave. Everything happened as planned, and now I'm supposed to meet the five kids. They don't know that yet, but they will be the first of a long serie of purifications. I have designed the neuro-transmitter to affect specifically the children who ate huge amounts of my products, that's to say the lazy and greedy. At the end, only the good children, like me, shall remain. My installations in Paris are ready to welcome me, just in case. I hate to think I might have to leave my beautiful Factory, but I have to. It will be like leaving Rosemary a second time. As I foresaw, the five "lucky" kids are among the worst of the worst:_

_Augustus Gloop: no brain, but a huge stomach and an overprotecting mother that is even dumber than he is. I'm afraid he won't be of much use, you can't get a lot from a giant meatball that has the IQ of a dead chicken. I think I'll just boil him and extract the fat._

_Violet Beauregard: a little ball of nerves. What's funny with her is that she's exactly the female version of Luke when I was younger. So she's a chewing-gum fanatic... well, a good test for my three-course-meal gum. I've been longing to know if a fruit-flavored skin makes a good ingredient. We'll see if she's still as cocky when she sees her skin being ripped off her muscles..._

_Mike Teavee: he's like a dream come true. I've been long trying to create a computer program that would help me hijack the minds of the children who fall victims of the neuro-transmitter, but what I really need for this is a computer that thinks like a human. If I can lure this boy into the Factory's network and trap his mind inside, it will be only a matter of hours before the system corrupts his mind and makes him mine. Time to see if the teleport laser and the Wonkarrific Experience actually work..._

_Charlie Bucket: Gosh darn it ! I made a terrible mistake. But I was prepared for this. Every rule has its exception, and I knew one of the Tickets would be found by an innocent kid. And this one is the nicest among the nicest. Poor boy, somehow, he reminds me of myself at his age... but I can't stop the project at this stage. Sorry, boy, I have no choice. What if I manage to break him, to kill him, and then revive his body, with a virgin mind that I can totally reshape as I wish ? With the knowledge of Mr Wilkinson and the technology we have here, this could be possible. After all, none of us will live forever. I must think of the relieve._

_Veruca Salt: finally, I think I could have simply produced a single Ticket if I knew it would end in the hands of this little girl. Seriously, she on her own has all the qualities I was looking for to finish my project: selfish, needy, wussy, arrogant, totally unempathic, and the list goes on. And there's something more. She looks tasty. No, that's not the word I meant. How do people say, outside ? They have a word, I know it, to describe exactly how I feel. She's the only one who does not physically disgust me. She's... I think it's a word about temperature. Warm ? No... hot ! That's it ! She looks hot. Oh, I can't wait to have her on the rack, to see her body shake and... _

Charlie gasped, is eyes stopped on the last lines. Unsure of what he had really read, he looked at them again. He couldn't believe it: _She looks hot... _his heart beat faster. He was trembling so much he could hardly hold the book between his hands. _I can't wait to have her on the rack... to see her body... _the poor boy had gone beyond terror.

_He's gonna... I must find this passage now !!_

Panicked, he dropped the book and began to sweep everything off the desk, looking for some kind of secret switch or whatever would open a secret passage. There had to be a way somewhere ! He then proceeded to search the chair itself, but there was no switch, no lever, no button. He looked at the desk again, and he calmed down a bit when he saw the diary again. He had accidently dropped it so that the back cover was visible. And there was something written. Written with the same ink as the front cover, but with the more elegant, adult writing style. It was a sort of poem. Trembling, he grabbed the book, sat back on the chair, and read aloud:

_There's no earthly way of knowing,_

_Which direction we are going,_

_There's no knowing where we're going,_

_Or which way the wind is blowing,_

_Is it raining? Is it snowing?_

_Is a hurricane a-blowing?_

_Not a speck of light is showing,_

_So the danger must be growing..._

He heard a click below, followed by a worrying mechanic growl. What kind of thing had he triggered ? Trying not to yield to fear, he finished:

_Oh, the fires of hell are glowing,_

_Is the grisly reaper mowing?_

_The danger must be..._

He couldn't read more. For at this exact time, the floor disappeared under him, and still sitting on the chair, he left the office and disappeared into a dark bottomless pit, at a rather high, but not uncomfortable speed. Yet he was far from confident, and that was understandable. The chair seemed to follow a rail on the wall. Yes, the chair was a secret elevator ! _That _was the secret passage ! And this pit had to be the scary pit Augustus fell in moments earlier ! Hey, wait a minute... Augustus had destroyed a part of the wall in his downfall... so that had to include a part of the rail... as if to confirm his thoughts at this very moment, there was a violent quake, and with a bone-chilling metallic shriek, his chair was properly snapped out of its rail, continuing its downfall freely and at an increasingly crazy speed ! Charlie was clenching it tight, and already it was going down so fast he couldn't shut his upper lip ! They were going to crash down and meet Augustus's dead body below !

----------

The electric shock finally stopped, but Veruca didn't relax this time. She was way beyond that. All her muscles were overtensed, her face wet with unstoppable tears, and there was that horrible sensation of red hot pins and needles running all over her skin. The pain had become so intense that she could hardly see the difference between the shock periods and the break periods. And the worst was that she didn't even have the strength to hate her torturer. Actually, she was being haunted by an odd mix of love and hate. How could she really hate someone who suffered so much as a child ? How could she really hate someone who she had, in a sort of way, contributed to create ? But more simply, she just hoped, in the darkest corner of her mind, that if she stopped hating him, he would stop the torture. It was as if he had read in her mind:

"Dear child," he said as he produced a full syringe, "you know I really dispise the fact that you have to suffer so much..."

"Oh, right," she replied with what she wanted to be a bold tone, but she was so weak it was merely a moan, "then why did you torture me in the first place ?"

"I know, I know, but I'm beginning to regret it. I'm ready to admit I was wrong. Perhaps you deserve better than that. Listen, if you promise to be nice with me, I might be more gentle to you... deal ?"

She frowned. She really didn't like the tone of his voice when he said that. That was creepy. But then again, she didn't have the strength to be defiant anymore. She didn't answer. Wonka raised his shoulders.

"As the French say, _qui ne dit mot consent_..."

He came close and gently injected the content of his syringe into her arm. There was first a state of anguish, when she wondered what he poisoned her with, and then, all the pain in her body gently faded away and her limbs went numb as the novocaine was doing its effect. After a few seconds, the powerful anaesthetic made her lose all sensations in her body, and actually she had never felt so good before in her whole life. No more excruciating pain, no more discomfort of any kind, she was detached from her physical self, she was a free soul. There was a buzz, and the cuffs that were holding her opened and disappeared under the table. At this point, she had no chance to run away: her limbs just wouldn't respond. She caught herself smiling, and whispered a thankful word at Willy Wonka. The chocolatier smiled.

"I'm glad you liked my little present. Now it's your turn to do me a favor..."

He bent over her, and gingerly ran his fingers on her chest. What was he doing ? She didn't like that at all... he played with the upper button of her dress for a few seconds, and unfastened it.

"For you see..."

Now she began to understand. No... God, no ! She suddenly cursed that damned anaesthetic, for because of it she had absolutely no chance to fight back ! He unfastened the second button.

"All my life, I have always wondered..."

She would have preferred the electric shock. Everything but this... if he did it, she would be broken forever, she would die ! He unfastened the third button.

"What a girl... tastes like..."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For those who have been freaked out: I warned you ! And now, Veruca is in jeopardy because you kept reading ! Lol, I love doing Cliffhangers Of Death. Just two points I'd like to note:

Châteauneuf: Wonka's adoptive name is actually that of a brand of French wine, Châteauneuf du Pape.

Meat: this guy... okay, I stole it. The pig-faced ogre actually comes from the video-game _Manhunt _where he is called Piggsy, has a chainsaw instead of a cleaver, and most of all, is hella creepy and hard to defeat !


	28. Moonlight Shadow

Okay, so this is the final escape from the Factory. Know what it means ? Yeah, we're getting to the end of the story (at last !) Congratulations for reaching this point, that was pretty long. Lol. Okay, just a warning for this chapter, it contains some suggestive non-consensual sexual interaction, but nothing explicit, don't worry (I don't want my story to become a R-rated porn. Especially with minors involved. That would be gross !) Otherwise, I hope you enjoy.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Veruca shut her eyes and clenched her teeth, waiting in silence for the inevitable. It couldn't end this way ! If only she had not been so greedy as to absolutely want that damn Golden Ticket ! Now, here was her prize ! A prize she wouldn't have imagined even in her darkest nightmares !

She could now feel his hand pass under her clothes and caress her bare skin, and God it was disgusting ! All her body stiffened with horror, but she couldn't scream, she couldn't move. She could do nothing but feel and let it happen. And hope it would be fast. Another sensation on her skin, something warm and wet, and she understood it was his tongue. The pervert was licking her !

"Sour," he moaned. "I'm not surprised..."

She had to evade ! She wouldn't survive if she kept thinking about what was happening to her. That's it, focus ! She had to focus on something else and pretend it wasn't happening. But what ? Nothing around her was any better. The inexpressive face of the surgeon... the aggressive crude light... the collection of cold, sharp instruments... the coldness of the table under her... wait, she could feel the cold ? Sensations were coming back !

As soon as she realized this, the girl opened her mouth to let out the highest pitched, the most piercing scream she had ever produced. Wonka immediately backed away, grimacing. Satisfying. She had intentionally screamed like that. After all, if he were to... hurt her, she would at least have made him deaf. The perverted chocolatier put his hands on his ears until she stopped, and then said, with an eerily calm tone:

"Little girl, what is so wrong ? I hope I didn't hurt you ?"

"Back off, you freak ! I'd rather be roasted to death with your electric thing than let you do what you're about to do ! Don't ! Touch ! Me !"

"Oh, come on, girl, don't be silly. If you are to die, then at least, let's have a good time before."

He drew closer again, determined.

"No !" she shouted. "Stay away from me ! You hear me, you motherfucking pig ?"

"What a language for a young lady ! If your parents heard you..."

This allusion to her parents, probably waiting outside, trembling with dread for their little sweetheart, made her totally insane. Her tears turned into tears of rage as a grimace of hate and agony distorted her pretty face. Sensations came back slowly in her arms and legs, and she put all her remaining strength to move them, merely to manage to make them shake.

"Don't be so tensed," Wonka whispered, and the worst was that he sounded like he was really trying to reassure his victim. Mr Wilkinson was still standing as stiff as a piece of wood and watched without any emotion as his Boss put his hands on the girl again, trying to open her dress more, slowly going down. Every of his contacts provoked a startle of repulsion. Mr Wilkinson could feel all her distress, but he just couldn't care less. That was the Boss's business, not his. Then, when Veruca regained enough strength, she screamed again.

Annoyed, Wonka immediately grabbed her mouth with his hand to reduce her to silence. The young girl moaned and began to shake her head right and left to break free. He sighed.

"Please, little girl... stop it. Why don't you just let yourself go ? I bet you may even like it..."

As an answer to these words, Veruca did indeed stop struggling. Instead, she gave way to her most primal instincts and did the first thing any animal would do in her situation. The simplest thing of the world: she opened her mouth to its widest and bit the latex gloved hand with cruelty. There was first a crunch, as if she had bit an apple, and when her mouth filled with an oddly sugar-flavored blood, there was... how could we say... imagine the last shriek of a swine being slaughtered, that you would hear through a dozen of microphones. You would still be hundreds of decibels away from the yell of pain Willy Wonka produced as he swiftly withdrew from her.

When he looked at his captive again, it was in a much different way. It was almost with horror. The so-called helpless child lying in front of him had half of her face wet with his own blood ! He couldn't believe what she had just done ! With even more dread he looked at his wounded hand. The purple glove had turned crimson, and a red-hot pain was radiating all over his palm and down to the wrist. He found out he couldn't move his thumb anymore, and when he looked more carefully at the bite marks, it was to discover that... she had almost ripped a part of the flesh apart ! He spoke, his voice trembling with hate and fear all together:

"That is so... how dare you... how dare you, you brat ! Here, I invite you to share my Paradise, and that is the way you thank me. Fine. I had it coming, after all. If you want to take it this way, that's just fine. If you want hate, hate you will get. If you want pain, pain you will get."

He began to search on a tray with his valid hand. Searching for an instrument. For Veruca, the hateful glee of having hurt him was fading and she now looked with distress. The anaesthetic in her body was still too strong for her to escape and she had worn herself out struggling. What was coming next ?

"That's fine. Just fine. You're a brat, after all. I saw it coming. Just a brat. Brats will never change. Unless..."

He found the object and raised it in front of him for her to see. It was a shiny scalpel. She startled. This object brought back some very vivid memories.

"The only way to turn a brat like you better," he explained, "is to remove the Rotten Nut. Behind the eye."

That was it ! And this time, it wasn't only a nightmare. He was really going to butcher her eye. Before she even had the time to be afraid, Veruca had the chocolatier's wounded hand grabbing her face, preventing her from moving, and his other hand, armed with that ugly sharp blade, was slowly approaching her face. It was all happening exactly like in her nightmare. And she was equally helpless.

Slowly, the scalpel was descending closer, concealing the light as it did. Her eye began to twitch, and when she wanted to scream, only a serie of fast breaths came out. She knew it would hurt. And it would hurt pretty bad. The blade was now so close she could almost feel the cold steel on her eyelids. Then, he would simply pierce through her eye, like a needle through a balloon, and her blood would splatter all over. Or, he would dive the instrument into the socket and snap the eye out as if he were making a ball of ice cream with a spoon. She couldn't really tell which option she would like better. As he was about to penetrate, the girl found herself telling the oddest prayer in her mind: she prayed that if Superman were to burst from the sky and rescue her, he would better do it right now.

_Dunk ! _Everybody froze. As if her prayers were answered at this moment, a dull sound, like the fall of a heavy object, came from the large air vent on the ceiling. Wonka stood still, putting the dreaded scalpel away from her untouched eye, and looked at the vent. Everybody looked. It didn't produce wind anymore.

"Mr Wilkinson ? Why has it stopped ?"

"I don't know, Boss."

"How's the situation going with the other kids ?"

"I'm going to check that out."

"Please bring Meat back here. Just in case."

They talked, but the surgeon did actually not do any move and kept looking at the vent. They were all fascinated by this vent, as if they were anticipating a dramatic event to occur within seconds, and this event would come straight from that...

A lightning. At least, fast as a lightning. A brown flash rushed out of the vent at such a speed ! And it went straight into the chocolatier and pinned him down ! _Superman ! _Veruca thought. Actually, though everything happened in a matter of milliseconds, the girl had hoped for this with every fiber of her body, so much indeed, that she saw all the scene in dramatic slow-motion. The flying thing that popped out of the vent was a boy with a brown shirt and black pants. It was Charlie, she knew this, but in her head, it was Charlie and Charlie was Superman.

The boy then flew straight from the vent and into Wonka, passing over the surgical table Veruca was lying on. The collision made the chocolatier lose balance and he fell on his back, his hand still holding the scalpel drawing a large circle in the air to end up diving the instrument into the console of the electric device. There was a blinding, sparkling white explosion, pieces of torn metal were ejected from the machine and thrown over the room like bullets. The surgery had gone mad ! Veruca was hit badly: she didn't remember she had two electrodes stuck on her forehead until this moment, when a short-circuit triggered by the explosion sent enough an electroshock to heat up a coffee straight into her head. She opened her mouth to cry, but didn't feel any actual pain. There was just a plain white light... and it faded to black. She passed out.

----------

Sparkles.

_Veruca !_

Sparkles again.

"Veruca ! Wake up !"

The girl opened her eyes. She didn't feel any pain, which was quite odd considering the shock she had received. She just felt dizzy, and the electrodes had left two red marks on her forehead. She was lying on the floor, beside the surgical table she had fallen from. Charlie was kneeling over her and gently had her head resting between his hands. All the lights had been destroyed and the surgery was silent and dark, with the exception of sparks and sparkles that regularly burst from the wrecked machine. There was no sign of life but the two children in this room, now.

"Yeah," she said, "I think I'm okay."

Charlie was confused. "But I didn't say anything yet," he said.

Strange, for she had clearly heard him ask if she was okay. But nevermind. She ignored this and gathered her strengths to give the boy a long and tight hug. She thanked him for saving her life, and her words came from her heart.

"How did you make all the way here ?" she asked.

The boy didn't really know how to answer. That's right, how did he do that ? He remembered the armchair in the elevator pit. He remembered when the rail broke and the chair fell out of control. What happened next ? He had been ejected from the chair... brought to a very different path, he remembered he thought he was dreaming, because he had arrived in a ventilation shaft and followed it_ upwards _and _sideways_, which was against all the laws concerning gravity. And he had finally fallen straight into the surgery, in a fall he could actually control. In other words, just like when he entered the mansion and fought against Augustus, he had...

"Flown ?" she asked. "You actually _flew_ all the way down here ?"

"Well, yeah," he replied, surprised that she could finish his phrases even before he said these. "I think I can fly, now. Side effect of the Lifting Drink's not wearing off. We'd better move. Violet and the others must not be very far..."

"No, they're close. They're coming near."

"How do you know that ?"

"Well, I..."

A third voice interrupted them, calm, threateningly calm:

"Where do you think you're going, kids ?"

They looked up. Willy Wonka was standing in front of them, separated from them by the steel table. Contrary to Mr Wilkinson, who was lying unconscious a few feet away, knocked down by a sharp piece of scrap that had opened his temple, he looked just barely hurt by the explosion, and it hadn't even taken the hat from his head !

"Crap !" Charlie murmurred. "I thought I had knocked him down !"

Terrified, Veruca didn't say a thing. He would never die !

"Little boy," the chocolatier said, "you are very annoying. You were interrupting us at an important moment. But that's okay, I can invite you to our little party. You have destroyed some of my equipment, and..."

He paused to give a look at the still unconscious Mr Wilkinson.

"And, he will survive, but he won't be of much help for the moment. So what kind of game can we play without all that stuff ? There must be something fun to do..."

The children kept watching him, speechless. He was standing between them and the door. Charlie could fly, but he sadly wasn't Superman and couldn't physically challenge the chocolatier. A few moments ago, he had pinned him down, but that was only thanks to the surprise. As for Veruca, she was still too weak to even walk properly. If the others didn't show up soon, that would be very, very bad for them. Wonka gave them a bright smile at this moment, as if he just had a wonderful idea.

"Oh, yeah," he said, "a cool game, very fun: you're gonna torture each others ! What do you think of it ? Charlie, you begin. Remember when she called you a bum, time for revenge."

"You're forgetting our friends," Charlie said with all the confidence he had left - very few, indeed. "They will show up soon, and you can't stand a chance against Jim. He's a pro."

That only made Wonka laugh. "Oh, you think they have survived all the way through this Basement ? I have an indestructible pig-man ogre called Meat patrolling around. At this moment, he must be feasting on Jim's dead body, and he'll soon bring Violet here for some more fun. You fought well, I admit it, but in the end, I won, Charlie Bucket."

Unexpectedly, it was Veruca who spoke next. And she spoke in such a confident, bold manner, as if she was sure the situation would turn to their advantage within seconds, that it even made Wonka worried:

"He's forgetting something. There is something that will make you fall from high, Willy Wonka, and this thing is almost here. You don't guess what it is ? No, you don't. Wait... oh, that is funny... I think that electric shock in my head unlocked something... I can read your mind like a book."

The chocolatier began to sweat. Cold sweat. He put a trembling hand on his forehead, as if it could prevent the girl from intruding into his head. He knew she wasn't bluffing: the machine he had stuck on her head was supposed to collect informations from her mind. The shock that had destroyed it could as well have inverted the process and given her this ability.

"So, now you know what I can do," she said with an evil grin that came from her most glorious days as a spoiled brat. "You're not that confident, now, am I right, you dirty lustful bastard ? So, any idea of what is coming yet ? Hurry up, Willy, it's getting closer, and it's gonna kill you... oh, you kinda have an idea... let's just say it out loud. Two words: Augustus Gloop."

The chocolatier startled. "But Augustus is..."

He couldn't finish his sentence, for at this very moment, a loud crack like thunder invaded the space, and soon the room was caught in an earthquake that brought everybody down. Wonka looked around and watched with horror as the walls were all cracking up, as easily as windows being hit by a ball. What kind of thing could be so strong ?

Eventually, the walls collapsed, all four walls at the same time, opening the surgery to the more open space around, extending on every side, below and above: the large circular meat storage, full of "meat" hanging from the ceiling. And in front of the empty space that once was the door to the surgery, there stood the gigantic Augustus Gloop. The boy had escaped from his control. The creature was turning against his creator. Wonka felt betrayed, and worse, he felt surrounded, he felt all his defences crumble one by one, and he felt that this time, he was about to lose. He felt a fit of rage growing, invading his mind and turning his blood into fire. The same rage he had experienced when he killed his father, or when he beat a kid with a bat until he destroyed him. He was in a killing madness. If he had to lose, he would bring someone along with him. Swiftly, he grabbed his cane, put a finger on a secret button, and aimed straight at Veruca.

"You said I was crazy, Marjorie," he whispered, "then, how about this ?"

He pushed the button.

"Watch out !" Violet yelled as she arrived behind Augustus, but that was too late: a sharp, shiny, twirling blade-like missile popped from the tip of the cane and spun in the air like a boomerang, straight into the little girl, straight into her throat. It was much too fast for her to dodge, and when you panick, you don't actually dodge. You just stiffen and close your eyes, and wait for death to come. That's what she did. But she never felt the coldness of steel against her throat. Instead, there was a strong gust of wind that pulled her hair back. She opened her eyes: the blade was stopped in mid-air a few centimeters from her, like grabbed by an invisible force. It only lasted half a second, and then, as the wind grew a little stronger, black lines began to appear in the air, around the blade, and drew more and more complex and solid 3D patterns until they formed a black-gloved hand. Another half a second later, Snake eventually appeared in his entirety before the astonished girl. He had not turned invisible for a second, as she first thought. That was even more impressive: he had made the fastest move ever in his life to come and grab the blade before it killed her. The fastest move ever made by any living being: he had moved faster than his own image. Faster than light.

But that was not over yet. As soon as he had grabbed the blade and appeared in the room, Snake looked at Wonka, his enemy, with murderous eyes. The chocolatier was standing up, clenching his cane like a weapon. So that would be the showdown. Snake had expected this moment since the Inventing Room. Giving way to his reptile instinct, he opened his mouth wide, sticking out his forked tongue and his venom stings, to take his serpentiform aspect. Then, something nobody - not even him ! - expected, an unknown reflex, made two thin streams of a yellow substance spit from the base of his venom stings at high pressure, to fly across the destroyed room like two liquid arrows and hit Wonka right in the eyes. The candyman yelled in terror and pain and fell down, his hands on his eyes, trying to make the excruciating burning sensation go away. Just like a king cobra, Snake had spat venom at his enemy. Now, he had to finish him.

He, Augustus and Violet all moved at the same time, rushing to their weakened enemy. They were all three eager to kill him, right now. Pushed by a mean, primitive glee for being now in a superior position over their tormentor and a desire for revenge, they practically jumped on the chocolatier like in a football melee, ready to crush every single bit of his person. But as they were diving on their prey, the chocolatier regained his wits and managed to grope for another button on his cane which he pushed. His immediate surroundings were instantly plunged into a thick, foggy white smoke. When the kids landed, it was to find nothing but a cloudy environment that concealed everything. They couldn't even see each others. Snake began to cough, and his eyes were itching badly.

"Shit," he hissed, "tear gas !"

"Where's Wonka ?" Augustus asked.

"I got him !" Violet shouted, before she realized what she was holding in her hands was only the chocolatier's crimson coat - and its owner was not inside.

Wonka was running away !

----------

_Quick ! Run, run for your life ! Just like when you escaped from the sanitarium !_ Willy Wonka had to get away to safety before they get him. His eyes felt like they had been pierced by red hot needles, hurting so much that opening them demanded an incredible effort. And when he eventually did, all he could see was a serie of white spots, like stars, dancing before him on a pitch black background. Snake venom, he thought. The venom burnt like acid and was destroying the cornea. He was blind. That had gone so wrong ! He lost everything in his quest for vengeance. All his life had been wrecked by a bunch of horrible kids and an inhuman mercenary. Fine ! Let them take over the Factory, but they would never catch him alive ! Besides, all was not over yet. The whole operation was a failure, he understood this, but at least, he would flee with the satisfaction of giving them one last trouble. A trouble called Wonkarrific Experience. After all, if you have to go, go with a smile !

He bumped against a bodybag, and another one. Running through the meat storage without his sight was a real pain. But he had no time to think of his comfort, he knew where to go, and he had to go there quick ! The harsh smell of tear gas was fading behind, that meant he was close to the exit ! If he were lucky, the kids would take too long to recover from the gas to spot him. But he had to run fast !

_Bump ! _A shock on his face, and he fell on his butt as he hit the door of the Great Glass Elevator at full speed. He was there ! _Come on, Willy, you're almost out ! _He got up quickly, found how to open the door, and rushed inside. Safe ! He put his fingers on the glass panels, and in a hurry, began to check for the right button. Another great idea he had to have everything written in relief ! After a short while, his fingers met a button bearing an indication his fingers identified as a U, a P... _Up And Out_ ! He immediately pushed the button, so hard he nearly broke it. There was a sudden, brutal acceleration, and he took off like a rocket.

----------

_Outside:_

"Bron ? Bronson Roarke, you hear me ? Please open that door, you're not helping anyone, here !"

Lieutenant Roarke knew it was Mrs Beauregard knocking at the door and calling him, but he didn't answer. He didn't want to talk to anyone now, as he was sitting alone, in the dark, having locked himself into the men's bathroom of the nearest pub. He wanted to be alone to think. He still couldn't believe what had happened inside that Factory from Hell. When they all turned insane, and these monster plants, and... what happened to his unit. All dead. A SAS member must always be ready to face any situation, any possibility. He didn't plan what happened, and all his men paid with their lives for his incompetence. So much wanted to be a hero... and he failed miserably. He thought he didn't even deserve to be called a soldier again. He considered the small metallic thing in his hand, his automatic pistol. That's what he deserved, he thought as he put the barrel into his mouth. What he deserved... but no matter how much he tried to persuade himself of this, he just couldn't shoot.

Mrs Beauregard waited for a moment, on the other side of the door. No response. She was getting worried. Worried that he might do something stupid. She decided she should go out and ask one of his soldiers for help. She tottered out of the pub, having been badly wounded during her escape from the candy garden, and came back to the camp that was humming with activity and illuminated like a New York street at Christmas, which made the woman's vision as clear as daytime, though it was nearly seven and a half and the night was pitch dark. Actually, everything had been running havoc since they came back from the failed assault: Mrs Bucket had fainted and was being watched by paramedics, Mrs Salt was hysterical despite having drunk enough to send a Russian lumberjack into alcoholic coma and was harassing her husband, there were talks among the soldiers saying they would soon ask for a wider intervention by the British Army, Mrs Gloop had still not recovered, and Mr Teavee had fallen asleep on the computer, so that he now had a part of the keyboard printed on his face. All in all, every person present was in a state of near-explosion. The young woman couldn't tell she felt any better, but she had had the occasion to speak with her daughter just before she fled from the garden, and this reassured her greatly. Of course, Violet was awfully young, but she was very strong in will, and her companion, the mercenary, seemed to know what he was doing.

She looked at the moon. It looked enormous from here, pale and quiet, partially hidden behind the large black chimneys. So peaceful, she thought, the contrast was even more terrible... wait, what is that !

"Look !" she yelled, and everyone at ear range turned towards the moon: an object had just popped out of the tallest chimney, a curious device that looked like a large cube of glass equipped with rockets. They could hardly distinguish a human frame into the cube before it disappeared in the black sky.

Wonka couldn't see anything, but judging by the difference in temperature, he knew he was already outside. Cautiously, but still with the hesitations due to his handicap, he defined a direction and moved his flying elevator to the South. France. If everything was alright, he would be there in a few hours. With sadness, the chocolatier turned his head in the Factory's direction, but he couldn't see it. It was all about darkness. He would never see his beautiful Factory again. At this moment, he told himself he had never hated anyone more than this particular group of kids. They reminded him of all the people he had hated in his life. They reminded him of the bullies in his school. They reminded him of Marjorie, the stupid spoiled princess. They reminded him of Jacques, the fat bully he nearly killed. They reminded him of Michel, that unbearable smartass in college. As he thought that, he grew positive that these kids were not children. They were merely the embodiment of his past tormentors, coming back to haunt him. If they survived, he would have to hunt them down, have them killed one by one. Maybe he could ask the Patriarch, just like he did a few years before. Until then, he hoped they wouldn't make it out alive. He hoped his secret weapon, the Wonkarrific Experience, would work. Yes, he sincerely hoped Mike Teavee would show up soon.

----------

"Nobody move ! Or I'll make you into hot-dogs, and they won't be sugar-flavored !"

Okay, the situation in what remained of the surgery wasn't at its best, for the least. It seemed that while the kids were struggling in the cloud of tear gas, Mr Wilkinson had had enough time to wake up, and now that the gas was dissipated, they had the nasty surprise to face a mad surgeon threatening them with a long and thin steel tube, kind of like a long cattle prod, connected to the floor - where there had to be a battery or something - by a cable. None of the kids really knew what kind of weapon it was, but it sure didn't look friendly. They were separated into two groups, with Charlie and Veruca on one side of the surgical table, and Violet, Augustus and James, on the other side, where they were closest to the surgeon. No-one dared to move. Snake evaluated the situation. It wasn't good at all. He didn't think he could move fast enough to prevent him from shooting, the lightspeed move he had performed a few minutes ago was plain luck, and he wasn't positive he could do it again. His Deringer was empty. As for the whip, Mr Wilkinson was clearly out of range. In a normal situation, he would have moved as fast as he could and seen what would happen. But here, that was a weapon he didn't know anything about, and the children could be hurt if he made a mistake. Pretty tough, and the surgeon didn't look like he was ready to yield...

Then suddenly, Mr Wilkinson pointed his weapon at the table and pulled a trigger, letting out a bright blue beam of electricity that crashed on the steel and melted it down to form a hole in the middle, all with a sound of thunder.

"I said don't move, Charlie Bucket !"

That was time ! Snake stepped forward and prepared to rush... but the electric gun or whatever it was immediately aimed back at him, cutting off his attempt. The surgeon let out a nervous, nearly panicked snigger. He was sweating heavily. Cold sweat.

"You think you're gonna go that far like that ? You think you're gonna get away with murder ? Oh, so you're definitely children. But I can't let you go. No, I was invested too much in this project, I can't let it be destroyed by you, kids. So I will escape too, and I'll take a hostage along, just to be sure."

Now, the kids were stiff, anticipating what was next with anxiety. So much way, so much effort, to be stopped by a loonie with a laser ! But none of them wanted to end up as a hot-dog. And the surgeon had - consciously or not - taken a very strategic position, far enough and close enough at the same time, to keep them at bay without fearing any attack. They had to admit it, he got them good, here.

Veruca waited until he looked at someone else, then, calmly, she whispered in the ear of a tensed Charlie:

"He's going to die."

He looked at her without understanding.

"Very soon," she continued. "He's closing in..."

"Who ? Who is clos..."

"Charlie !" Wilkinson roared. "I told you to shut up ! Okay, it's time to go..."

He pointed his gun at Violet.

"You ! You come with me ! Come on !"

The blue girl didn't react for a few seconds, then she made a hesitant step forward. She was shaking. She felt - they all felt - that the end was very close. But they didn't who it was close for.

"If any of you makes a single move," Wilkinson said with a trembling voice, "I fry her to death. You understand ?"

He reached out to grab Violet by the shoulder while his other hand was still aiming with the electric gun.

"Now," Veruca whispered.

The surgeon had no time to lay a finger on his hostage as a flashing electric arc ran from the cable and the weapon, to pass all over his body, that began to shake like made, devastated by uncontrolled, convulsive movements. First, he began to bleed profusely, then as the electric current increased in intensity, smoke and even sparkles began to come out of his skin. The show was hallucinating and gruesome. Violet stepped back to her friends and watched with amazement, with fascinated horror. After a while, Mr Wilkinson's dead and still smoking body collapsed, its skin burnt like paper, and a terrible smell of roasted pork invaded the area. Then silence settled again. The kids still couldn't believe what had just happened. It all had been so... speed !

"You know what's worst ?" Violet declared as she looked at the smoking corpse. "Things like that don't even gross me out anymore. When I think that, two days ago, I still used to be afraid of horror movies..."

She was answered by a voice that suddenly appeared out of nowhere: "Well I'm sorry if my intervention wasn't that glamorous - it was even gory, I'd say - but I had no better idea."

The kids startled. "Mike !" they all called.

A beam of light came out of the gun the corpse was still holding, and literally exploded into a ball of white energy that then took the more recognizable shape of a teenage boy with a black shirt with a skull printed on. Mike was back on front of them, he was physically here. That was quite a relief !

"Mike !" Violet yell. "Is that really you ?"

The boy turned round like a fashion model and smiled at the girl. "Did ya miss me ?"

"Hell yeah !" she said as she rushed to give him a hug, thus touching his body and making sure it was really his body and not a hologram or anything. "Feels like it's been years since I last saw you !"

Augustus and Jim also came to greet their companion who arrived exactly when they needed. Call that being providential ! Charlie wanted to release Veruca for a moment and go to congratulate him too, but the girl grabbed his arm.

"No !" she whispered. "Don't approach him."

She looked anxious.

"Why ?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Dunno... there's something wrong with him... I'm trying to read his mind, but it's just... not right. Maybe it's not Mike at all..."

She looked at Mike and addressed him: "Hey, Mike ! Good to see you again. But how did you make it out of the computer ?"

"That wasn't easy, trust me !" he laughed. "When the power came back, there was a glitch in the system and I got lost into some residual memory. I was completely cut away from you, and it took me a while to find the passage back. Then, I arrived straight into the operating registry itself !"

He paused as his companions didn't seem to understand. "That's the very deepest database of a computer system. The source, from where you can control all the configurations."

"Oh, okay."

"It took me some time to handle it, but in the end, I managed to control the INI files and re-configure the system to come back in control. That's when I found out what was going on in this room, and I also found the program that would allow my physical body to get out of the computer. And here I am !" he looked at Violet with tenderness, and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I hope this bastard didn't hurt you, did he ?"

She shook her head and smiled gently. She even blushed. "He didn't even touch me. You arrived right on time, guardian angel. Veruca didn't have this chance, however..."

They all looked at her with care.

"That's gonna be okay," she mumbled. "I'm still alive, after all..."

But she couldn't stop looking at Mike with defiance. He didn't seem to notice. From what she felt, he didn't seem to mind about anything, which was what worried her. Maybe it was because she didn't fully control that new telepathic skill yet. But no, that couldn't be the case. She read her other friends to compare: Snake was relieved it was over, and was already thinking of the reward and the monumental binge he would get tonight, to forget. Violet wanted her mom. Augustus was still wondering how he got there and how he became that Hulk-type behemoth - and he was quite enjoying his new body. As for Charlie, that was surprising for he was relieved, of course, but had absolutely no desire to get out of the place. For what she read in his mind, his sole desire was to stay with her and protect her, no matter what happened. So young, and she realized he was having the crush of his life ! And the best was, well, she kind of felt the same way too. But for Mike, it was different. There was nothing. He was like an actor playing a role, he wasn't in his character. She just could distinguish something about Violet and Snake... violent feelings.

The computer boy had a look over her head, at the meat storage that extended around the now wall-less surgery. Below, a rather large group of ill-looking children were gathering.

"Survivors ?" he asked.

"Yeah," Violet said. "Wonka kidnapped them from a lot of countries, brought them here and kept them locked like guinea pigs..."

"That monster..."

What shocked Veruca with what he said was that it sounded completely wrong. She didn't find any emotion in his mind that was supposed to come along. There was definitely something wrong... she kept concentrating. She felt she was about to discover the problem, and for that, she had to crack into his memory. He began to twitch.

"Okay," Snake said, "Wonka's escaped, and his assistant is dead. All his henchmen are dead. It's over. Let's gather everybody, it's time to go home, at last."

"Not yet," Mike replied, uneasy. His whole face was deformed with twitches. "There is... something first... we have to do... will... will you get the fuck outta my head !"

He roared, and suddenly waved his hand at Veruca to throw an electric charge that crashed between the girl's feet. Everyone but Veruca startled, and immediately moved towards the boy by instinct. He waved his hand at them.

"Stay back ! I can throw electric bolts at will. Yep ! Something I brought back from the cyberspace ! So no-one will touch me !"

"Mike, what is going wrong ?"

"You've turned crazy, man ?"

Dozens of questions, all worried concern. They didn't understand why he was acting so strangely. Veruca was the calmest of all. She had read enough in his memory. She stood up with difficulty, supported by Charlie. The anaesthetic was finally wearing off.

"Mike," she asked quietly, "why did you do all of this ? What is the reason ?"

"I didn't mean to hit you, but you were reading in my head, and I couldn't stand it."

Augustus didn't quite get. "Reading ?"

"Yeah, Augustus. I don't know how she did, but Veruca is a telepathic. What did Wonka do to you ? If you are the Veruca we know, of course."

The girl replied without anger: "You're ridiculous. So, I'm a telepathic, then what ? Charlie can fly, you can do all these things with computers, Augustus is stronger than a bear, Violet is super-flexible. We all brought back something from this Factory. In the end, we all had a special prize. But I'm talking about what you did, right after the power came back. You were lying, things went on completely differently, didn't they ? Admit."

The boy didn't answer, he clenched his fists and looked at her intensely. Small electric arcs were running fast along his arms, indicating his boiling anger. The kids sensed the atmosphere was electric - no pun intended - and stepped back. Snake put his hand on the handle of his whip, for safety. A few tensed seconds passed.

"You prefer me to tell them ?" Veruca asked. "Okay, here is the truth: you retrieved total control over the computer system the very minute the power came back. And when I say total, it really means total, one hundred percent. Something about the power loss that switched off the security protocoles or something, I don't really know. But you_ were _in control, that's for sure. You could have pulled us all out without problem. You could have spared me a lot of troubles, and I'm not joking. But you did nothing. You just let the Factory run normally and pretended not to control anything. Oh, yeah, just one thing: you switched the WonkaBots back on to chase Violet and Snake as they were on their way here. In other words, you did everything you could to make our progress difficult."

Violet was flabbergasted. "Mike ? Is it true ?"

"It is. Everything is true."

"But why ? Why would you do such a thing ?"

"You're asking why, Violet ? I'll tell you why..."

He suddenly pointed his hand at Snake. There was a flash, and the serpent-boy was practically pushed back as if hit by a train, to land on his back at the inferior level, among the bodybags hanging from the ceiling.

"Snake !"

Violet instantly jumped down to help him. Augustus followed. And the other children, even though they didn't speak the language and basically couldn't tell what was going on, knew something was going wrong and were coming to help. But when they arrived a few meters from the mercenary - who was slowly getting back up, dizzy with the shock - they found it impossible to continue. There was something blocking the way. It was a very vague, unreal form, like a ghostly blue curtain, that formed a dome around the boy. A dome that, however unreal and ghostly it looked, was harder than Plexiglas and wouldn't let anyone in. Violet heard a girl talking to her in Russian, and when she looked she saw Oksana by her side. Although she didn't speak her language, that was easy to guess the blind girl was anxious and wanted to know what was going on. But Violet didn't know. She tried to touch the foggy blue surface, and her hand instantly began to twitch. That dome was made of electricity. Then, she saw Mike was already in front of Snake, inside the dome. But he hadn't moved from the surgery !

"Teleportation !" he sniggered. "Force fields, electric bolts, I can do everything ! You've got to bear with it, I'm not a little boy anymore ! Half a boy, half a machine. Deus Ex Machina !"

He finished his sentence with an evil, maniac laughter that made Violet's heart stop. That was sure, now, he had turned insane. Damn, he was turning even madder than Willy Wonka himself !

"Now," he continued, "let's finish the job..."

On his words, the whole dark, concrete place was invaded by flickering bright red lights, as a siren echoed loudly.

"What's going on ?" Augustus asked.

An impersonal, artificial feminine voice answered from the ceiling: **Warning. Self-destruction process has been activated. Basement 13 will collapse in ten minutes. All personel must evacuate immediately.**

The kids began to panick. Gasps of fear and worried whispers accompanied the deafening siren. Violet shouted:

"Stop it, Mike ! You're going nuts, you're gonna kill us all !"

"Na, don't worry. If everything's going alright, we will all be out long before the place collapses. But there's just one detail before we go: Snake, you can't come with us."

The mercenary's response was immediate: he sprung his attack and his kick reached Mike straight in the face. Strong enough indeed, to disfigure a man for life, but the computer-boy had nothing, not even a bruise. His reply, an energy ball in the stomach, knocked the Snake down pretty bad. Outside the force field, Augustus was trying to charge and break in, while Violet was shouting for them to stop.

"Why, Violet ?" Mike asked. "Why are you protecting him ? That guy is not one of us. Shit, he's not even human ! He doesn't deserve to come out with us."

"But he saved us ! We would all have been caught without him ?"

"Oh, yeah, and what did he do, exactly ? Scared a few squirrels, killed a few Oompa Loompas, WonkaBots and zombies. Oh, so great ! Just because he arrived by surprise and looks like the Big Bad Dewg, he's getting all the fame. But does anyone actually remember why he's here in the first place ?"

"He was hired as Veruca's bodyguard !"

"Exactly, he was _hired_. So it's all about the money, eh ? In the end, Snake, you're just being paid, like a whore. And I should add that you don't do your job pretty well. I mean, since this morning, we all got nearly killed at least once, and Veruca holds the world record, she even got tortured and nearly raped."

"Shut up !" Violet yelled, crying with anger.

"I see three possibilities," he continued without noticing her interruption, "either you're the most incompetent mercenary in the world, or you're just lazy as a snake and spent your time thumb-twiddling, hoping we'd get away by ourselves, for you to get paid without much effort. Third possibility, and that's the most probable: your real client is Willy Wonka himself, he hired you to pretend to help us when you actually did everything to make our lives a bitch."

"That's nonsense !" the girl shouted.

_Impulse._

Snake chose this moment to attack again, but Mike dodged with ease without even looking and threw him a few meters away. He laughed.

"I can change my parameters ! Yep, just like a machine ! I can make myself faster, stronger, and tougher than you ! Weren't expecting that, were ya ?"

"Mike, please..." this time, Violet tried to speak softly to appease the mad boy. "Stop it, please..."

"I don't understand you, Violet. I'm doing this to save you ! That guy, that snake, he's not to be trusted and you know this !"

"Yesterday, I played video games with a funny guy called Mike Teavee. I can't see him now, but I'm sure he's here, somewhere, and he's listening to me. Mike Teavee, you know all this Factory is the craziest thing of the world, and it's a miracle we're still alive. Even the soldiers couldn't make it through ! Snake did his best, and I think we can call it a good job. Besides, you know he's not working for Wonka. If it were the case, he could have caught us all anytime. And he wouldn't have spent so much time protecting me."

"But you weren't even in the contract ! So what, a pretty girl shows up and he forgets all his commitments ?"

"He got separated from Veruca and found me instead. That's all. There was not a single second he didn't spend trying to get to Veruca ! He did not betray anyone !"

This time, Mike faced her completely, even forgetting - for a moment - the presence of his enemy, still lying dizzy on the floor:

"And I think he did everything he could to stay by your side because he has a crush on you. Looks pretty obvious to me."

She made a disgusted grimace. "That is not true at all."

"And you ? Do you love him ?"

She lost her calm when she heard this. She finally understood. "So that's what it's all about ! You're just freakin' jealous !"

Mike was about to reply when a strong leather-clad arm clenched around his neck from behind. Immediately, the boy spawned an electric shock that made the Snake lose his grip. He turned round to face his opponent.

"You're not down yet ? Fine, let's see if you are really valuable. Come on !"

And the two boys began to furiously trade blows under Violet's helpless eyes. Augustus appeared beside her.

"I did what I could," he said, "but that dome or whatever it is is made of pure energy. I can't break through !"

"What are we gonna do ? We've gotta stop them and get away, or we'll all get blown up !"

"Over here !"

This call was from Charlie, who had stayed in the wrecked surgery with Veruca. He was now waving his hands at Violet and Augustus for them to rejoin him. The two kids hurried up until they met Veruca, sitting against the surgical table.

"Okay, guys," she said, "I think I got an idea. That's something Mike said earlier. He said he was half a machine."

"Yeah, so what ?"

"I think a part of himself is still into the computer, and what we have here is just... a representation, you know."

"An avatar, you mean ?"

"Yes, an avatar."

"But why is he acting so weird ? He wants to kill Snake !"

"I know. I'm trying to read further in his mind, but that's difficult. He must be under the influence of some kind of virus. Is there a computer somewhere that I can use ?"

Augustus looked at where they came from, a bridge overhanging the meat storage. There was a cornice on the wall, on the other side. He pointed out at it.

"This way," he said. "I think there's a computer on this cornice."

"Okay, I can stand, but hardly walk. Charlie will bring me there. Augustus, you know a little about computers ?"

"Just a few."

"That's a start. Come with us. Violet, try to gain some time with Mike. Let's go !"

Augustus took the bridge and ran to the cornice. Violet jumped down to the large room where the two boys were still fighting. Charlie took Veruca in his arms, and with a little effort of concentration, he took off and flew to the cornice where he landed smoothly. When they reached the computer, they were greeted with that chilling voice again:

**Warning. Self-destruction process has been activated. Basement 13 will collapse in five minutes. All personel must evacuate immediately.**

Time was running short ! Augustus was already turning the machine on.

"It's asking for a login and a password," he said.

"Wait," Veruca replied, "I think I read from Wonka before he fled... type _willywonka_. As for the password... a minute... _w.i.l.b.u.r._"

"Alright, I'm connected. What should I do now ?"

"Okay, let me think, let me think... crap, I don't know !"

"Keep cool, Veruca," Charlie said. "If there's a virus, it must be somewhere in it... can you show a list of all the programs running right now ?"

"Sure," the German boy said as he went into a search engine and began to work. Veruca gave a funny look at Charlie.

"How do you know that ?" she asked.

"Well... we're having computer class at school."

"We're not done yet !" Augustus declared. "There are two hundred fifty-five thousand different programs currently running ! Some are big programs, some are just small applications. How can we recognize the virus in this maze ?"

**Warning. Self-destruction process has been activated. Basement 13 will collapse in four minutes. All personel must evacuate immediately.**

Meanwhile, things were going pretty bad for Snake. It turned out that Mike wasn't joking when he said he could easily make himself stronger and faster. The mercenary first lost the rythm and tried to defend himself as much as he could, to finally get a blow that properly propelled him back on several meters, out of the force field that vanished at this moment, to slide on the floor until he hit the wall. He lifted his head with difficulty, just enough to see Mike approaching. He wasn't into the battle anymore. Mike... something was wrong with him. That was hard to conceive, but he was stronger than Meat, and stronger than the Black Window. Impossible ! Somehow, he reminded him of a video game player who would use cheat codes. That was exactly the case, indeed. Mike was a cheater, and he had turned on the invincibility button. No way to really hope to fight him in these conditions.

He came closer. Then suddenly, Violet walked by and stood between the two boys. First, Mike wondered how she could have done this, and then remembered he had removed the force field. He waved his hand and produced an electric arc. She wasn't impressed. She looked desperate and determined at the same time, and the young genius was unsettled by this attitude.

"What are you doing ? Get out of my way !"

"No, Mike. We all came here together, we will get out together. I can't let you do this."

"But why ? God, why are you protecting him ? This guy's a serial killer, a maniac ! He's got no emotion, he only works for money. You said it yourself, remember ? You said he could have worked for Wonka if it paid better."

"And is it the case ? No, Mike. He's on our side, and because he was of so much help, we don't have the right to judge him for what he is. Kill him because you don't like him, and you won't be any better than Willy Wonka."

Mike had a start. That was so... so... so true ! Snake stood up and tottered until he arrived beside the girl. He looked at Mike with defiance.

"I'm not... I'm not a monster, I'm still human. I would never have killed you. You may think I'm not so different from Willy Wonka, so look at this..."

He put his hand in his leather top and produced the small locket he was wearing as a necklace. The picture of his late girlfriend.

"Would a monster carry this on him ?" he asked.

Mike was speechless. Everything they said sounded true, but... he didn't know. He was troubled. There was something in his head that kept telling him they were trying to fool him, and he had to kill Snake before it was too late. This second voice was trying to take over, and he was puzzled. Violet continued:

"I know you have a crush on me. That's pretty obvious. And I know what you fear, so I'll be honest: I'm not interested in James, and he's not either. Would I like you ? Perhaps... but there's one thing sure, I would never, ever go out with a killer. Think about it, Mike."

As he stopped producing electric arcs and stood still, speechless, the blue girl grew more confident and came very close to him, close enough to whisper something in his ear:

"You know, I didn't want to admit it, but when you kissed me this morning, I kinda liked it."

**Warning. Self-destruction process has been activated. Basement 13 will collapse in three minutes. All personel must evacuate immediately.**

"He's weakening !" Veruca yelled. "I can read something in his mind... look for a program called... wait... Wonka... Wonkar..."

"_Wonkarrific Experience _!" Augustus screamed with victory. "I got it !"

"Shut it off !"

Augustus clicked on the program and pushed the _Cancel_ button. An error message appeared:

_Ha-ha ! Sorry, you don't have a Golden Ticket to access this ! _

"Shit !"

"Shut it off now !" Charlie panicked.

"I'm trying !"

Veruca began to gasp. Less than three minutes left. They would never make it on time ! Charlie gave a look around. Maybe if he unplugged something ? But he had seen enough movies to know it could make things worse ! What to do ? Power cables, disk readers, USB drives ? Wait, there was a USB key plugged on a drive. Without thinking, the boy took it off. There was immediately a beep, and Augustus and Veruca both declared with glee:

"_Wonkarrific Experience _disactivated !"

Charlie sighed. Oh, God ! Just for a key ! _Now, I'm gonna need new pants_, he thought.

Below, there was no flash, no impressive beam of light or release of electricity of any kind. Mike just lost balance and fell on his knees, disoriented. Violet helped him back up.

"Are you okay ?" she asked, but when she saw his eyes that were no longer shining with that sort of evil glee, she knew he was. He looked worried as he gave her a long, warm hug.

"What's going on ?" he asked.

"It's okay, Mike, it's okay. Thank you, Mike Teavee."

**Warning. Self-destruction process has been activated. Basement 13 will collapse in two minutes. All personel must evacuate immediately.**

Veruca, Augustus and Charlie hurried down to rejoin their friends. Snake said:

"Okay, let's get outta here now !"

"How ?" Charlie asked. "There's no elevator or anything left. We'll never get out on foot in two minutes !"

"Mike, can you stop the countdown ?"

"No. It's a top security device. Once activated, there's no possible return. I'm sorry."

Violet whined. "So there's no chance at all ! We're all gonna die here !"

"Wait !" Veruca interfered. "Mike, didn't you say there's a second elevator somewhere ?"

"Yeah, somewhere in Basement 7."

"Is it working ?"

"I don't know, but we can't bring it here, anyway, unless someone goes up and fetches it. We're screwed."

"No, we're not ! Charlie, you can fly ! Do you think you can fetch it down ?"

"Yeah, I think so..."

"Where's the elevator bay ?"

Mike pointed out in the direction where Wonka had run away. There was a double lead door at the other side of the meat storage. "This way !"

"Everybody out !"

All the kids immediately ran in this direction, but Violet stopped after a few steps and looked behind. Mike wasn't following.

"Mike ? Hurry up !"

The genius shook his head. "No. I'm not coming with you."

She was shocked. "What ?"

"If you wanna get out, someone needs to stay here to open all the doors and turn off all the traps. I'm the only one who can do this."

She froze. Her jaws began to tremble. She forced herself to smile and let out a weak snigger as if what he said was the stupidest thing in the world.

"That's absurd. No... we can't leave you behind. Remember, we're all in this together."

"There is no other way. Trust me. Besides, there are many things I need to be forgiven for."

Tears began to run down the little girl's cheeks, and this vision broke his heart. "But you're gonna die if you stay here !"

"I will return into the cyberspace to clear out your way and stay inside where I have a chance to survive. When you're out, I'll try to establish a connection with an external computer and get out. Maybe I'll die, but that's the only way. Now, run !"

She didn't have time to wish him farewell: there was a white flash, and the boy properly disappeared. No time left to cry. Violet turned back and ran, both to flee and to hold back her tears.

She passed the double doors to arrive in a room that had nothing but a large square metal hatch on the ceiling. Everyone was gathered around this hatch, with Charlie in the middle. Mike's bodiless voice echoed at this moment:

"I'm opening. Good luck, guys."

The siren grew even louder as the hatch began to open before the great communication passage.

**Warning. Self-destruction process has been activated. Basement 13 will collapse in one minute. All personel must evacuate immediately.**

Charlie bent down and closed his eyes, concentrating, and took off like a rocket to disappear in the dark space over their heads.

Seconds passed, challenging everyone's nerves. Even Snake was overtensed. Would he make it ? Seconds passed, and still not a sign from the flying boy. The automatic voice spoke out again. God knows how much they hated this voice !

**Basement 13 will collapse in 30 seconds... 29... 28... 27... 26... 25...**

Then suddenly, the deep hum of powerful reactors covered the voice, and a rocket-powered square elevator, all made of glass and large as a schoolbus, landed before the group of kids.

**19... 18... 17...**

The doors of the elevator opened.

"Come in, quick !" Charlie shouted, and all the dozens of children rushed inside. Gladly, this one elevator was large enough to contain everyone.

**13... 12... 11... 10...**

A terrifying mechanic roar emerged from deeper below, making the earth quake. Large parts of concrete broke off the walls and crashed in a deafening clamor. The destruction was on its way !

"Quick, Charlie ! Quick !"

"There are hundreds of buttons ! Which one ?"

**9... 8... 7... 6... 5...**

"Nevermind ! Push the first button you see, we're out of time ! Quick !"

**4... 3... 2... 1...**

Charlie pushed a button. _Up And Out_.

**Ignition !**

----------**  
**

Lieutenant Roarke had his finger on the trigger. The barrel of his handgun was pointed straight to his temple. He closed his eyes. This time, it was the end. Farewell, kids ! He wished he could have done better.

He pulled the trigger.

At this very moment, a sudden, roaring earthquake made him miss his shot, and the bullet flew harmlessly over his head to crash in the ceiling. He abruptly regained his wits. What was that ?

Retrieving his soldier instincts, the officer immediately ran out of the toilets he had locked himself in and passed through the bar. Broken glass, knocked off chairs and tables. The windows were shattered and let the cold night in. The earthquake then stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Going outside, the lieutenant caught the first soldier he met by the arm.

"Boy, what's going on, here ?"

"An underground explosion, sir. No-one knows what's happening, but something's happening for sure !"

The camp in front of the gates was burning with volcanic activity: the panicked crowd gathered round was exchanging a clamor of "What's this ?", "have you felt it too ?" and "look at that !"; the soldiers on alert were picking up their rifles and forming a squad in front of the Factory, ready to deal with everything that would come out; doctors and paramedics were bracing themselves; and the children's parents, oddly the most quiet of the whole camp, were gathering in the middle, right in front of the gates, acting silently, as if mesmerized. They were all staring in the same direction, towards the great dark building. Roarke followed their stare: the blown-out entrance of the Factory was letting out a huge, anguishing black cloud of smoke that shadowed the moonlight, a great, thick smoke indeed, as if there was large fire below. His heart beat faster with anticipation. Something was about to happen.

For a few seconds, there was nothing. Then, they heard a jingle, the kind of sound you would hear from an elevator that had reached its floor. Then something flew out of the cloud of smoke and went up in the air, making all the spectators gasp with surprise. First, Roarke thought of a large bird, but as the thing took a nosedive and drew closer, it became clear it was human. It was a little boy, and the little boy was holding someone else in his arm, perhaps a little girl, but he wasn't sure. Only when the couple landed in the middle of the camp, under the heavy artificial lighting, did they recognize Charlie Bucket and Veruca Salt. There was a short, awkward silence. And then...

"Charlie !"

And then...

"Veruca !"

And then...

"Mom ! Dad !"

Crying, screaming parents rushed to greet their offsprings, in a chaotic dance of hugs, kisses, congratulations and comforting words. Paramedics soon followed to check up the miraculous survivors. Roarke could only believe what he was witnessing with difficulty. No, he hadn't shot himself. And yes, these two children were actually out of the Factory, in a pretty bad form, but alive. His professional side took over and he went to his men and ordered to aim the searchlights at the building entrance.

He heard weak coughs, and whines, and suddenly, a large group of perhaps twenty, thirty unknown children emerged from the smoke and stood there, in the middle of the snow field, looking round with the hallucinated eyes of rabbits who got caught in the lights of a car. These children looked like they were coming right out of a gulag, Roarke thought. How long had it been since they last breathed some fresh air ? Taken completely by surprise, the paramedics didn't know who to focus on, Charlie, Veruca, and now all these new children, and they were running around crazily, carrying stretchers and first-aid kits in the most anarchic way. The first children were already being taken to the nearest stretchers when a weird blue-skinned girl he guessed was Violet Beauregard and a mountain of muscles that couldn't be but Augustus Gloop followed out, carrying another unknown, worn-out kid clad in a black leather coat. He waited another few seconds, but nobody else appeared. These three were the last ones.

The officer looked at his men and saw they were as lost and confused as he was. That was just impossible to believe. Watching the scene unfolding before his eyes, the kids coming out of the cursed Factory to be comforted by their parents, taken to the ambulances, laid on stretchers and checked up by doctors, all this scene looked to him like a surrealistic show. Military trained men had died in this building. And this group of helpless children had just made it out. By themselves. Bronson Roarke believed in God, and right now, that was the only thing that prevented him from going mad. But the kids were safe, now. Only that counted.

----------

When she felt a latex-gloved hand open her eye, Veruca's first reaction was an instinctive startle, as she dreaded to see the scalpel again. But the man who had his fingers on her face and was telling her to relax was not Willy Wonka, and the object he was brandishing before her was not a scalpel, but a harmless penlight. The stretcher she had been laid on was the most comfortable thing in the world. She felt her father squeezing her hand, and her mother's hand on her shoulder. She still couldn't believe she was out of the Factory. From the overwhelming sense of relief she had experienced when she breathed the fresh air of the outside and she met her parents' arms, there remained nothing. She had cried all the tears from her body, and now, she just felt supernaturally calm, peaceful, as if she wasn't really in her body and all of this was just a dream... or maybe was it just the effect of the oxygen mask the doctor had put on her mouth...

"Abnormal dilatation of the pupils," the doctor noticed. "Important muscular tension, superficial burns on the skin... physical trauma, perhaps caused by an electric shock or something... Jesus, what did that bastard do to you, girl ?"

"She's gonna be alright, isn't she ?"

That was Charlie. He was standing by her side, with his parents and his Grandpa Joe. Mrs Bucket had her arms wrapped around her boy's shoulders and was looking at the scene with gravity. Another doctor arrived, knelt down in front of the boy, and tried to examine his eyes with a penlight. Charlie shoved him away.

"Stay still, boy," the doctor said, "I just want to make sure you're okay."

And he came back. Charlie shoved him more brutally, annoyed.

"Bugger off," he grunted, "I just wanna know if she's okay."

The other doctor who was taking care of the girl gave him a tender smile. "I'm afraid she will need extra care, but yes, she is okay." He then looked at Mr Salt. "We'll have to take her to the hospital, now."

Mr Salt nodded, and the doctor prepared to put the stretcher into the car. Charlie reached out and squeezed his friend's hand before she left. His blood was cold as ice. But when he felt she squeezed back, just before he let her go, it reheated him like a big spoonful of warm chocolate.

"And you," his mother asked, "are you okay ?"

"Yes," he replied without hesitation, "as long as she is okay, I am."

Mr Salt gave him an understanding smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder, just before he and his wife climbed into the ambulance and left with their daughter. Charlie watched them go, he felt a hot tear on his cheek.

"As long as she's okay," he repeated, "I am."

He then looked up at his mom, and cried out all the tears he had.

----------

Violet hadn't been really aware of anything around her since she helped carry Snake out of the elevator, after it crashed in the entrance. Must be something toxic in the cloud of smoke. She had coughed her lungs off, and she thought she had almost fainted in the middle of the snowfield, before she felt pairs of strong arms catch her and carry her wounded, worn out body. What happened next was a little confuse, she only knew that she was now lying on something soft, she recognized a mattress, and a warm blanket had been pulled over her. The air she was breathing through the small plastic mask had a bizarre taste, but the need to cough disappeared. The next thing she felt was a sharp pinch as a syringe dug in her arm, and all her muscles relaxed. She was in peace. Zen. As peaceful as when she finally went to bed after a long day of exercise. Where was she ? Was she really out of the Factory ? All around, she only heard people shouting orders at other people running, people chatting, people screaming... she forced to open her tired eyes, and she saw heavy lights illuminating the place, under the black sky, with cars and trucks all around, and soldiers in blue uniforms and doctors with big red crosses on their white jackets, running among these cars and trucks as if in panic. She was definitely outside. And she didn't even feel happy for this. She was just tired, so tired... there was something she was supposed to think of, now that she was out, but she just couldn't remember. She was only tired.

A warm hand caressed her forehead, and she looked up to see her mother. Mrs Beauregard's hair was terribly messy, due to the combat helmet she had worn a few moments ago, and her make-up was flaking with her tears to form several unpretty black lines on her cheeks, but Violet didn't care. At this moment, the girl thought her mother was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Beside her, a doctor was gingerly examining her bleeding hands.

"Multiple fractures on three metacarpals of the right hand," he commented. "I need to plaster this now. Did you try to punch through a wall or something ?"

Almost, she thought. Actually punched through killer robots and the thick bone of an ogre's head. That was not a surprise she had her hand broken after this. She tried to mumble something, but the mask made it unintelligible. Her mom removed it and came as close as she could. Her eyes were red from weeping.

"Hey, sweetheart !" she whispered with a smile. "I missed you."

Violet smiled in return. "Sorry," she joked, "I didn't kick him in the balls, as you said. He was too fast."

"Nevermind. You're safe, that's all."

"And the others ?"

"They're safe, too. All of them. The nightmare is over for everyone."

"By the way, Mom, I quit chewing gum. I don't like it as much as I used to."

"No problem."

"And I'm blue, but that's just... well, that's a pretty long story."

Mrs Beauregard gently interrupted her daughter with a kiss on the forehead. "Don't worry, everything is gonna be okay, now."

"Thanks, Mom."

"For what ?"

"For forcing me into karate. It was very helpful down there."

The two girls were interrupted by lieutenant Roarke, who came carrying two large mugs of hot chocolate.

"I thought you might like some chocolate," he said.

"Don't you have a hot-dog ?" Violet asked, and she added when she saw the surprised looks they gave her: "What ? I haven't eaten anything since that morning. I'm hungry !"

"We all are, sweetheart," her mom said, "and I promise tonight we'll have a dinner that will make your belly explode."

"So, you're Violet Beauregard," the soldier said as he gingerly shook her unbroken hand. "I'm honored. Lieutenant Bronson Roarke. I've heard a lot about you. You must be pretty tough. And... and blue..."

The girl sighed, amused. "Thanks."

"So, how does it feel like to be hero ?"

"I'm not a hero, sir. I would never have made it without..."

She suddenly stopped, as if she was about to say something she just remembered she wasn't supposed to say. But the officer guessed what it was about.

"Yes ?" he asked. "Without whom ?"

"I mean, we were all in this together."

"Of course... but wasn't there someone, in particular ? You can tell me everything, you know..."

He bent down and whispered in her ear: "Your friend, the one in the leather coat. Who is he ?"

"Roarke !" Mrs Beauregard interfered, calmly but severely. "She really doesn't need to be harassed like that."

"Of course... I'm sorry. Gonna check around, see you later."

As Mrs Beauregard watched the soldier walk away, Violet had a start, as if she just remembered something important.

"Mom !"

"Yes ?"

"Where's Mike ?"

"Who ?"

"Mike ! Mike Teavee ! Is he out too ?"

"I... sorry, sweety. I don't know."

----------

Bronson Roarke walked past the series of stretchers on which teams of paramedics were taking care of all these unknown kids, which wasn't easy considering the fact that they all spoke different languages. But where the Hell did all these children come from ? He passed beside Augustus Gloop, this giant German, who was taking the medical examination as an opportunity to show off his muscles. Augustus looked like he was the least traumatized of the gang, but well, Roarke thought, when you're turned into a human battletank, few things can really shock you. As he was in his thoughts, he kept walking and bumped into the other boy, Charlie Bucket, and his parents.

"Hey, little boy."

"Please, sir," the boy asked, "do _not_ call me little boy. It reminds me too much of someone..."

"Okay. You're doing fine ?"

"Yeah, I guess so..."

The soldier couldn't help but notice the torn shirt and the several deep cuts and scratches.

"That doesn't look pretty," he said. "You fought against a tiger or something ?"

"Actually, it was more like a super-aggressive wall-crawling mutant zombie."

"Oh. Okay..." the officer answered awkwardly, for the boy looked so dead serious he couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "Anyway, you'd better have this healed, it must hurt like mad."

"But Charlie is a big boy," his mother said, "he has known worse than that. You remember your street-gliding accident, sweety ?"

"Sure I do. But Veruca doesn't want to believe me about this."

"By the way, boy," Roarke asked, "there's something I'd like to know... when you came out, you were like... like you were flying. How exactly did you do that ?"

The boy just shrugged. "I can't explain. It's just... like that. It was written on the Tickets that someone would get a Special Prize. Well, we all got one. Mine is to fly. You should ask Augustus to show you his, he can wreck a whole room with a single punch !"

The boy and his parents then walked away, leaving a slightly confused lieutenant, who was now wondering if he should believe in Superman from now on. A blue girl, okay, why not. But a kid who flies and another who has superhuman strength, that was really too much for him. But that didn't seem to puzzle them much. Children had such an impressive ability to get used to anything. He then decided to do like Charlie, he shrugged and thought of something else.

He walked beyond the circle of ambulances to a deserted police truck parked a few meters away from the communication tent. The truck's doors were open and music was coming out from the radio. Mike Oldfield's _Moonlight Shadow_. The soldier came closer and finally saw the one he was looking for, the kid in the black coat, sitting outside, against the truck, breathing oxygen from a bottle stolen in an ambulance. As he approached, the boy considered him with an absent, tired yellow eye, with a slit-shaped pupil. When he saw that eye, the officer was now sure of what he had been suspecting since he saw him come out.

"Hi, pal."

The boy didn't respond.

"Tell me," Roarke continued, "you don't look like you have breathed a lot of toxic smoke in there. Is the oxygen really necessary ?"

"It's not for breathing," the boy whispered through the plastic mask. "Oxygen makes you go high. That's exactly what I need right now."

"I dig it. So, you're Veruca's bodyguard, ain't you ? Well, good job, she came out safe."

"But not sound," he answered bitterly. "If I had been more careful, she wouldn't have had to endure everything she has gone through. Plus, I let Wonka run away. God knows where this sicko is lurking by now."

"What do you want, can't be perfect all the time, Mary Sue."

"What ?"

"Nothing. Still, Mr Salt made a good choice when he gave you this mission. Novgorod, Moscow, Chechnya, Kazakhstan... impressive résumé for a kid."

The boy began to breathe much slower, and he considered the officer now with a look of defiance. Roarke smiled:

"Yes, I found out who you are. For someone like me, that wasn't so hard to guess. It's your eyes, yellow eyes, they're not the average Joe's eyes. Snake. No, _the_ Snake. The one and only. Wanted by the KGB, GRU, Spetsnaz... I never guessed he could actually be only a thirteen-year-old kid. Oh, if I caught a guy like him, you imagine, what a boost in my career ! But... oh, too bad ! I thought he would show up today, but he never did !"

Snake let out a deep sigh and began to relax again.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"No. Thanks to you."

Mr Teavee arrived at this moment. He was extremely worried.

"Lieutenant ? Have you seen my son ? I can't find it anywhere..."

"Mike Teavee ? No, I haven't seen him..."

Now, the officer was getting worried too. That was right, where was Mike Teavee ?

"He made it out, hasn't he ?" Mr Teavee asked, his trembling voice becoming aggressive out of fear. "He must be here somewhere, right ?"

He suddenly lost his calm and grabbed the soldier by the collar. "Don't tell me he hasn't made it !" he now lost all his remains of self-control and began to yell. "Don't tell me he stayed inside that fucking building !!"

Snake knew he was indeed, still inside. In a way. Not really dead, but that wasn't sure. He was about to take off his mask and tell the poor father the truth, when a loud _boom!_,accompanied by a grey mist of smoke that smelt like burning plastic, made the three men startle and turn their gazes at the communication tent the whole thing came from. Then, they heard coughs, and all of a sudden, Mike Teavee emerged from the tent, safe and sound. None of the two adults understood a thing of what had just happened, how could Mike appear suddenly out of a tent that contained nothing but computers.

"Note," the boy declared, "never attempt an emergency exit from the cyberspace if you have costly stuff..." he looked back at the smoking tent and finished: "cause it burns like dead leaves. Damn !"

His father came to greet him back and tried to give him a hug, but as soon as he touched him, he drew back in pain.

"Aouch ! Son, you're hotter than a pizza oven !"

"I know, don't worry, that's just a side effect. Gonna wear off in a few minutes."

"A side effect of what ?" Roarke asked.

"The teleportation, of course ! Oh, yeah, that's right, you don't know about it. Well that's a long story, I'll explain later."

Lieutenant Roarke decided he had seen enough weird stuff for the day. The Flying Boy, The Blue Girl, Mr Muscles, The Snake Boy, and know, new addition to the Freak Show, The Boy Who Teleports And Sets Computers On Fire. Okay, and what could Veruca Salt do, read minds ? Na, that was much too weird for him. He left them and suddenly craved for a pill of Panamax.

Mike remained a few minutes chatting with his dad, mostly to persuade him that he was doing just fine and he wasn't hurt. That wasn't hard to see, actually. The passage to and from the cyberspace had cleared all his wounds, washed and ironed his clothes, and did his hair, so that he now appeared before his father the exact same way he looked on the morning. Contrary to his companions who all bore wounds, dirt, filth, and ripped and torn clothes, like survivors of a civil war. At least, Snake considered with relief, his leather suit was still almost intact, except for stains of spider blood and fruit juice that would take long to clean. After a while, Mike came and sat down in front of James. The mercenary kid took off his mask and handed it to him.

"Want some ?"

"No, thanks. Never before dinner."

The two boys giggled, and an awkward silence settled between them. Mike finally spoke:

"Jim, I wanted to say... sorry. For having tried to kill you."

"Nevermind. In another situation,_ I _might have killed _you_."

"Is that humor ?"

"Or at least, it's trying to sound like humor... but I'm not very good at jokes after a day like this. If I dig it, you were under the influence of a virus or something... in this case, it's understandable you were acting weird."

"Yeah, but some parts were true... about Violet, mostly. So, you're really not interested in her ?"

"Mike, we just survived the maddest of all maniac mad scientists, we just escaped his labyrinth from Hell where we almost died countless times, in other words, we're finally seeing the end of the longest day of our lives, and all you have to say is to talk about your crush problems ?"

The computer boy laughed. "Yes, you're right. It's maybe not the right time to talk about it."

"Mostly, it's not the right person to talk with. You'd better go and see her directly."

"I'll do it... so, the longest day of our lives, eh ? That's quite true... we've spent only ten hours inside the Factory, but somehow it feels like we've been here for about a year and a half..."

The two boys fell silent and stayed there, staring at the tall, dark building in the moonlight shadow. The sight seemed unreal. So much had happened inside, yet it now looked so quiet, so harmless, like an artifact, a Tower Of Babel they were observing without feeling its presence, as if it was a mere picture, a painting. They were totally detached from this building they paradoxically knew by heart, for it had been their whole universe for an entire day.

"I look at it," Snake said, "and I can't believe we have actually been inside, and now we're out. It's like two parallel worlds, one is a dream, one is reality, and now I feel like in the dream."

"I know how you feel. You don't feel like it's real, anywhere, but that's just the aftershock. Or something like that, I dunno. I'm not into psychology. Me too, I can hardly believe it's over. But it is, Jim. Yep. It's finally over."


	29. The Proposal

"And when I came out, I was all blue, and super-flexible ! And Jim arrived with his whip, killed them all in a single slash !"

"That was crazy ! When Augustus came after me, he was all muscular and insane, we started a fight, that was like in a movie ! I discovered I could fly when..."

"I fell in a pit, all the way down to the last basement, that was maybe one kilometer a fall, but I felt nothing and when I landed, there was that fat pig monster..."

"Killed it straight, cracked its head like a watermeleon ! There were arrows raining all round, like in _Gladiator_ ! And..."

"I was in front of a big laser, so I told myself: _Okay, Big Mike, no time to hesitate !_ That was scary, but I was really jacked into the computer !"

"And she could read minds !"

"Staircase was on fire !"

"A dozen robots !"

"I used a jet-pack !"

"The Oompa Loompas were cannibals !"

"I discovered a secret entrance, but the mansion was totally insane..."

"Got chased all the way down ! He almost drowned !"

The dining room in the Salts' mansion was howling with the chaotic sound of half a dozen different conversations, each kid telling the same story with his own point of view, all at the same time, forming a patchwork of chronologically unrelated - and somewhat incoherent - events told by overexcited young voices that would only pause to have a drink or a bite of food. That was not fine cuisine tonight at the Salts. Pizzas, ice-cream, sodas, a whole arsenal of junk food, a gigantic picknick composed of everything that would please and relax a gang of shocked and starving kids after their ordeal.

They had left the Factory about an hour before, and Mr Salt had gladly invited everyone to spend a few days at his mansion, to recover from this... difficult time, as he had said with a nice euphemism. There were only "the gang", as they now called themselves, along with their families. The unknown children from Basement 13 had been sent to hospital. They were doing fine, the doctors said. The officer, Bronson Roarke, had also been invited for dinner with them. Violet found it strange, at first, but as the party went on, she suspected that he and her mom were dating.

_I'd better watch it, _she thought as she took a bite from her pizza, trying to get used to the plastercast that protected her broken hand, _what will I look like if I have a Brit for a step-dad ?_

She observed the others. Snake wasn't talking much, except for a few words exchanged with her mom or Mr Salt. He wasn't a very chatty guy, anyway. Violet remembered the only time she had managed to have him talk a lot, that's when he was drunk with Butterscotch. Augustus was proudly talking about the way he had challenged an ogre in hand-to-hand fight, and how he could have won if "that damn chair" hadn't fallen from the sky at the wrong moment. Though, he was the first to admit he had no memory of where he got those muscles of his. Charlie was talking about the mansion he had visited, and how the corridors and rooms would switch place and defy gravity to make him mad. Mike was patiently trying to explain his father the concept of transformation of particles into micro-waves to allow cybertransportation, the very technology that gave him the ability - an ability he discovered he still had, now that he was out - to interact with computers and communication devices. Everyone was going with his own tale. Impressive, this ability children have to cope with the quirkiest situations, the scariest dangers, and get away with it. These events had distressed, terrified them moments before, and now they were talking about these as if they were coming out of a scary horror movie and telling the moments that had scared them the most, with excitement, with wonder, with fun, for they knew that it was all over and they were safe again, among their families and friends. That was magic. However, two of the most epic episodes of the day - the desperate escape from Basement 11 and the near-suicidal struggle against a vegetal monster to turn the big generator back on - were not being told. Veruca. She wasn't here to share the meal with them. Hurt, exhausted and traumatized by her ordeal, she had been sent to the nearest hospital for an emergency examination, and now she was back in the mansion, resting in her bedroom where she was being looked after by her mom and the family doctor. The blue girl thought with a bit of sadness that of all the gang, Veruca was surely the one who had gone through the worst. This led her to think about the little Russian, Oksana. She had to visit her, the next day. She would ask her mom to take her to the hospital.

She stood up and left for the toilets. When she came back, Mike was waiting for her in the hallway.

"Hey, Violet... can I talk to you a minute ?"

"Why, sure... what's the matter ? You look worried."

"It's about what happened in the basement... I wanted to say sorry for what I did."

She smiled. "That's all ? But, Mike, you were being controlled by a virus, it wasn't your fault. That's okay."

"No, not really. I mean, of course the virus made me do things I didn't want to do... but everything I said was real. Violet, the truth is, I'm totally crazy of you. When I saw you, alone with Snake, I was jealous, I started to imagine things, and then this virus arrived and just helped me make up a whole story, it made me mad. But that was not all the virus's fault, part of the problem came from me. I've been stupid, and mean. That's why I wanted to say sorry..."

Immediately then, the boy received an unexpected sneak kiss on the lips. His eyes swelled up like ping-pong balls.

"Of course, you're forgiven," she whispered, blushing. "After all, it's all over now... definitely over."

A few moments of silence passed.

"And," Mike said awkwardly, "I was thinking... maybe we could, you know, go out, someday."

"Yeah, sure... we could try... you know what I really need, right now ?"

"No, what ?"

"A contest. It's been a while."

"What kind of contest ?"

"Let's see... what if we see who can eat the most ice-cream ?"

"I'm on it !"

And, giggling, the two kids went back in the dining room.

----------

The dinner party was ended and the kids were going to bed when Charlie came to visit Veruca in her room. As he arrived, she was sleeping peacefully in her king size bed, with the blankets pulled over up to the neck. She was beautiful as an angel.

"We gave her a tranquilizer," Mrs Salt explained with a soft voice.

"Is she getting better ?" the boy asked.

The doctor answered: "Yes, but it might take days, even weeks, for her to fully recover from the psychological trauma... I don't know what really happened inside, but it had to be intense."

"It was..."

"She told me what you did for her," Mrs Salt said. "She told me everything, when we were at the hospital. Thank you, Charlie Bucket."

The woman took his hand and squeezed it tightly as she looked at him straight in the eyes. Her eyes were wet. "Thank you," she repeated.

"Can I wish her good night ?"

"Sure, go ahead..."

Gingerly, the boy crept on the bed and bent over the sleeping beauty to give her a soft kiss on the forehead. She didn't wake up, but he thought he saw a corner of her lips stretch into a smile for one second.

"Good night, Veruca," he whispered, and he left the room in silence.

----------

It was getting late. Close to midnight. Everybody was supposed to be asleep, and the large lounge at the first floor of the mansion was silent, empty of all presence except for Mr Salt and Snake, sitting in leather armchairs, talking softly in the darkness while enjoying a bottle of Hennessy cognac. On a table between them, appart from the bottle and two small glasses, there were a suitcase, two small wooden boxes, and a lighter. Mr Salt looked at his guest and noticed that, in the dark, the boy's yellow eyes were gleaming weakly. He opened one of the boxes and produced a cigar, while he offered the second box to James.

"I wanted to offer you a cigar," he said, "but I thought that, after what you lived, you might prefer something different..."

The boy opened the box to discover a few sheets of cigarette paper and tobacco mixed with dark green dried-up leaves.

"I hope you will like it, it's from Kazakhstan. I was told it's excellent quality, but I don't use this kind of product myself..."

"Well, thank you, sir, that's a very good idea," the mercenary said as he began to prepare his cigarette of marijuana. "Exactly what I need now."

"You're welcome."

They began to smoke silently, and after a while, the gentleman gently pushed the suitcase on the table towards his guest. The mercenary opened it to discover it was full of puffy bucks.

"Two hundred thousand pounds," Mr Salt said. "As promised."

The gentleman didn't really understand what happened now, for he saw the boy take a certain number of piles of bucks out of the case.

"What are you doing ?"

"I only take half the reward."

"Why would you do that ?"

"I consider the mission's not a total success. I brought her back alive, yes, but really, I should have done better than that. I wasn't with her most of the time, and because of this, she has been tortured, and God knows what else happened to her. It's not a failure, but not a success either."

The businessman sighed. "I understand. What happened to her is regrettable, of course. To be fairly honest with you, I would gladly kill Willy Wonka with my own hands."

"Like basically everyone in this mansion."

"At least, you are honest and fair. Veruca told me about you, during our short stay at the hospital. She told me about the squirrels. She told me how you went all the way down the facility when you were almost out, just to bring her back. And she told me how you caught a blade in the air right before her eyes before you spat venom at Willy Wonka. I think you deserve this money, Snake."

"The venom thing was just an accident. I didn't even know I could do it."

"Whatever. Please, take at least two thirds of this money."

"Fine. If you insist. But really, Charlie Bucket did a much better job at protecting Veruca than I did."

"You are perfectly right, and that is why I will give him a more important reward: now that Wonka has disappeared, the Chocolate Factory and all his funds will be taken away from him. I intend to take it back and give it to the Buckets. I believe this little boy has what it takes to become a good chocolatier, and I will gladly offer him my help. Of course, I won't conceal the fact that I am also seeking for a financial interest in this business. Just imagine the most important nut producer in Europe allied with the greatest brand of chocolate in the world."

"You're forgetting that what happened today will ruin the reputation of Wonka Chocolates forever."

"Of course, it won't be easy for the first few months, but when we get to produce real chocolate again, untainted by drugs or any kind of thing he put in his candies, the Factory will be back on working."

"Charlie could even make it a pleasant place, and get rid of this gross nightmare we went through. That's an excellent idea !"

"Thank you. Besides, this will please my daughter a lot. The two of them have a crush on each others, that's obvious. The boy reminds me of when I was young..."

"Yeah, I know what it is..."

As soon as he said that, the image of Jessifer began to invade his brain and he regretted his words bitterly. He shook his head and stood up.

"I need some fresh air," he said, and added as he took the box of marijuana: "Mind if I take it ?"

"It's yours."

"Thanks." He stopped a moment, and picked up the bottle of Hennessy. "I take that too, gonna be useful."

The young mercenary tossed his finished cigarette in the snow, and began to prepare another one. He wasn't sleepy. The air was getting very cold in the snowy garden, but he appreciated it. If the air was hot, it would have reminded him too much of the Factory. He wandered a little, enjoying the bright moonlight, and he decided to call his mentor. That was the right time, considering the jet lag, it was still the afternoon in Russia. Or maybe not ? He didn't know, he had never been able to remember jet lags. Whatever, his mentor was insomniac, anyway. He took his phone and waited a few minutes to obtain international communication.

"Patriarch ?" he asked. "Yes, it's me. Mission complete... you bet that was tough ! I didn't see it coming... didn't really go on as planned, the girl is safe but harmed. I had to cut down the reward... no, really, that's a very long story, I'll tell you everything later. But yeah, that was hard. Harder than Grozny. No kidding ! I think I can use some vacations, now... okay, we'll talk about that later... bye."

He put the phone back in his pocket when Mrs Beauregard appeared behind him.

"Snake ? Can we talk ?"

"Mrs Beauregard ?"

"Violet told me about you. Seems like you got quite close while you were in there."

"Only as friends."

"Yes, of course, that's what I meant. What are you going to do, now ?"

"Get a few days off. Go back to Russia, I guess. And then, I'll go for a new contract. Life goes on... why do you ask ?"

"I have a proposal for you."

"A proposal ? Who am I supposed to kill ?"

She let out a faint snigger. "No-one. It's about Violet... you must have noticed she is all blue, now. And needless to say, that's not gonna be easy when we go back to Atlanta. With school, and all. So here is my proposal: you come and live with us, in Atlanta, for a while. I want you to support her, to help her bear with her blue color. She's never been a very sociable person, and I don't want her to become a laughing-stock. She will overcome this much better with some help."

"Why don't you do it yourself ?"

"I will do everything I can, but it's quite difficult. A mother must be ready to face a lot of problems with her daughter. Growing acnea, first boyfriends, friendship issues... but a sudden change of skin color ? No, no mother is ready to help with that. I'm asking you because you don't have anyone expecting you, you have nowhere to go, right ?"

"That's quite true."

"Plus, I think you've become pretty good friend with her. But, to be honest, it's mostly because... no offense, but I think that no-one's better than a freak to teach a freak how to accept herself."

The boy let out a snigger of approval. She continued:

"You won't be paid much, but you have free lodging and food. You'll be like a member of the family, and you won't have to kill anybody. Consider this as vacations. What do you think about this ?"

"So, from mercenary I turned bodyguard, and now I'm a coach. Quite unexpected, but I could be interested. Can we talk about it again tomorrow ?"

"Why, sure."

"Cool. You want a spliff ?"

She hesitated. "Oh, well, I guess it won't hurt me..."

----------

It was late. So late it was almost early. But in the middle of the sleeping mansion, Violet couldn't sleep. Alone in her room, she kept changing positions in her bed, to a point she was becoming nervous. The room was too silent, too dark, the bed was too large, although it was very comfortable, it wasn't her bed and she didn't feel at ease in it. She felt lonely. Dark and without a sound, it was like time had stopped, and she was too impatient waiting for the morning to sleep. Plus, her arm felt itchy behind that damn cast ! But the real reason was that she was too afraid to sleep. When she closed her eyes, she would hear the weak whines of the zombie children from the dark basement, and this made her struggle to stay awake. She guessed everyone would have a gruesome nightmare, anyway. If she didn't dream about the zombies, she would dream about the snake pit, Meat, the skin-peeling machine or something equally nasty. But she didn't want to. She just wanted to rest with the satisfaction that the ordeal was over. Only, it was harder than she thought. It was so frustrating ! She wanted to weep in boredom when the door opened softly.

The girl stiffened. No worry, that had to be her mom coming to wish her good night. But, wait, her mom was supposed to be sleeping for long, already ! So who... the shadow that entered was shorter than her mom, had long hair, and was clad in a sort of long dress. A zombie child that was coming back ? Violet bit her lips and clenched her sheets with her valid hand so hard the fingers turned white. The visitor walked slowly to the bed, like a ghost. She was livid. She wanted to scream, but she was paralyzed. When the visitor was close enough for Violet to see her face, she suddenly felt terribly stupid.

It was Veruca. Only Veruca, in a long pink nightgown.

"Sorry to scare you," the girl whispered, "I didn't mean to."

"You didn't scare me."

"Don't tell me lies," she teased, "I can read your mind, remember ?"

She climbed on the bed and crept under the blankets, close to her friend.

"I heard you from my room," she explained. "Heard mentally, I mean. You feel distressed and you can't sleep. So I thought we could sleep together."

"Good idea," she moaned as she drew closer and rested her head on her friend's shoulder. "Thanks. Can't sleep either ?"

"I was given a medicine to sleep, but I started to dream about... let's just say a dream woke me up, and I couldn't go back to sleep. That's horrible, when I'm alone in the dark, I'm afraid of everything..."

"Me too... so, your... skill is not fading ?"

"No. On the contrary, feels like it's getting... not more intense, but rather more, you know, more precise, more accurate. It's easier to concentrate on someone."

"How does it feel ? To read people's minds ?"

"It's like a computer. I open someone's mind like you would open a folder, and I have all their thoughts, their memories, their ideas, translated into sounds, musics, pictures, in my head. At first, it's freaky, but I'm getting used. That's strange... two days ago, I didn't give a damn about other people, I only lived and thought for myself. Now, I sometimes know people better than they know themselves. I bet I'd be a great psychiatrist."

"Did you try it on people, apart from us ?"

"I tried on Snake, but I didn't stay long. There are some very creepy things in his memory... I saw a guy being melted down with acid in a bathtub."

"Okay, I needn't know more."

"Sure. Sorry. We try to sleep ?"

"We can try. You know, Veruca, that day was Hell, but I'm still happy it allowed us to meet."

"Me too. Good night, sister."

"Sister ? That's nice... then good night too, sister."

----------

The room was plain but nice, with its cream-colored walls, wooden furniture, and a whole bunch of diplomas displayed everywhere. The office of a psychiatrist. Veruca felt confident in this place, lying on the sofa, and she began to confess to the doctor as she was staring at the ceiling, completely relaxed.

"No," she said, "it's not a phobia. Or at least, I don't think so. It's just that you can't really trust one of these things again after a whole army of them tried to kill you. Okay, I might have pissed them a little. I was kind of a spoiled brat at this time, and I wanted to catch one of them and keep it as a pet. But God damn, was it really a reason for trying to kill me ? Crap, they tried to throw me in a garbage chute ! So, okay, they look cute and harmless, but in reality, they're vicious bastards ! Don't you agree ?"

No answer.

"Hey !" she called. "Are you listening ? Hey ! Guy, you're supposed to listen and say mh-mh and write things on your notebook. Hey-ho ? You fell asleep or..."

She turned round to face her doctor, angry, but her blood froze at the moment she saw him. He wasn't asleep, he was actually writing on his nextbook. It's just that he was... _it _was... a squirrel. Yes, a squirrel. A six feet tall squirrel in a dark business suit, writing a psychoanalysis on his notebook. The girl felt her hands and back were as wet as her throat was dry. Holy shit ! She would never escape these things or...

The squirrel turned its head towards her, and gazed at her through its ridiculously large round spectacles.

"Go on," he said with a plain male voice, "I'm listening."

She woke up abruptly and stiffened on her bed. She threw worried glances around as she tried to control her fast breathing. Where was she ? A loud, regular breathing noise came from beside her. She looked. It was Violet, sleeping peacefully by her side. Yes, she remembered, she had shared a bed with Violet, and fallen asleep. Oh, these damn nightmares again !

What time was it ? She reached out to get the small clock on the bedside table, and saw it was nearly six. Morning already ! But nobody would wake up before at least two hours. And with that dream, she didn't want to go back to sleep. Bored, she sat comfortably beside her sleeping friend and focused to see if someone was awake. It didn't take her mind long to detect Charlie, wandering on a balcony at her floor. She loved this skill ! Cautiously, she sneaked out of the bed and out of the room, to rejoin the boy on the balcony. Dawn was giving the sky a pleasant dark pink shade, but the air was so cold that, barefoot and in her gown, Veruca was literally freezing. The boy had taken more precautions, dressed in his black jeans, shoes, shirt and coat.

"Morning," she said as she arrived by Charlie.

"Hello... slept well ?"

"Not really... and you ?"

"No. Are you... are you getting better ?"

"A little..."

At this moment, he realized how cold she felt, and he hurried to wrap his coat over her shoulders. She thanked him with a warm smile.

"Hey, look at that," she said, amused, as she pointed below, at a place in the garden where they could distinguish an empty bottle of cognac in the middle of a dozen cigarette butts.

"Someone had a party, tonight..."

Silence settled again as they just stood there, side by side, admiring the dawn.

"It's beautiful," she said.

"You know what it makes me feel like ?"

"No... what ?"

"Makes me want to dance."

She gave him a weird look. "Dance ? We can't dance here..."

"Sure, we can... Superman style."

"What, you mean... now ?"

"Sure. You trust me ?"

He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

"Hold on tight," he said.

Hesitantly, she climbed on his feet and softly wrapped her arms around his waist as he held her shoulders. She was a few inches taller than him, but still she felt exactly like she was remaking Superman.

He took off smoothly. She didn't even felt it, and suddenly, as by magic, they were hovering above the garden, drawing slow circles in the air. They were actually dancing. Veruca had never lived anything so romantic before.

"I have to tell you something," he said gravely. "Veruca... I think I love you."

She didn't answer. There was nothing to be said, now. They were beyond words. They kept dancing for a moment, and they shared a warm kiss.

----------

_A few hours earlier, two in the morning, in Alençon, France:_

A dark blue Pontiac GTO was driving rather fast throughout the deserted street of the small medieval-style French city. At such an hour, there was not a soul in the streets, otherwise everyone would have looked at this car like a UFO: American cars are quite unusual in this place. That is to say, the cold and rain wouldn't motivate anyone to go out. Yes, the rain. In this part of the country, there was more rain than snow. It was the big Northwest, the wettest part of the country, so wet that you wondered if the earth was made of soil, or if it was like a big sponge.

The man at the wheel, a nervous middle-aged Frenchman, was observing the surroundings with attention while dragging from his cigarette as the car slid smoothly on the soaked narrow streets that ran between massive, four-century-old buildings of limestone, when he finally reached the larger Koutiala Boulevard. The man gave a look on his left, for there was a field beside the boulevard, near the hospital, and this field now looked like a pond. When the weather was better, you could see sheeps rambling in this field. Sheeps in the middle of a boulevard ! No doubt he was in France ! The man let out a curse in French, against the weather of course, and listened to the radio:

_Flash news, _the voice anounced in French, _we are just being told that in England, the five children that had been invited to visit Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory, and who had been kidnapped by Mr Wonka, have made it out, harmed and shocked, but safe. Mr Wonka has apparently run away and is nowhere to be found. Investigators who entered the Factory after the children came out have been so far reporting a number of disturbing discoveries, including a drug facility, the dead bodies of deformed dwarves and what they refer to as zombies, and, they say, the remains of the "largest spider in the world". The children and their families expressed the wish not to be interviewed, but the doctors and the military said they also discovered a number of unknown survivors who were supposedly kept inside the Factory. This means that so far, Willy Wonka is accused of the kidnapping, mistreatment and murder of at least thirty children from a dozen different countries. Plus, of course, the illegal dealing of drugs and toxic - sometimes deadly - substances concealed in regular candy. Wonka Candies are of course being immediately removed from stores all around the world and syndicates of chocolatiers are currently..._

The man changed the station to put some music as he left the boulevard and passed beside a kebab parlor, a bike shop, a gas station and a shopping center to finally leave the town and arrive on a road in the middle of the countryside. The Normand countryside, that means green fields, green bushes, green trees, green everywhere... and of course, wet as a sponge. The man continued, on a road so deserted you wonder where civilization had gone, when a cracking noise, like crisps being bitten, came from under his wheels and made him hesitate. He looked at the road with even more focus and saw these were not crisps, but pieces of broken glass, everywhere on the road, it was as if the asphalt was covered with a carpet of broken glass. _Bordel de merde_, he thought,_ that had to be a big big vase !_

A few meters away from him, a man was hitch-hiking. He stopped the car to let him in. The hitch-hiker hesitated so much to open the door and sit inside that the man wondered if he wasn't drunk or something. But when he saw his passenger's empty pale blue eyes, he understood the man was blind.

"_Merci beaucoup_," the passenger mumbled, and the driver was delighted he could speak French, for with his strangely outdated Victorian suit and his haircut à la Beatles, he looked really like an English guy. The car continued its way.

"I hope I'm not a charge for you," the passenger said in French, and the driver still noticed a faint British accent.

"Na, not at all. Kinda nice to have someone to talk with, that damn weather will kill me... _Rosbiff _?"

"Yes." _Rosbiff_ was a French slang word for British. "And you're American ? You have a sort of American accent."

"_Putain_, no ! I do everything I can not to catch the accent. I'm French, but I live in California. Came back here a few days, for vacations, and here, in the middle of the night, my daughter has a flu or something, and I have to go all the way throughout the country to find a pharmacist !"

"Bad luck... how old is your daughter ?"

"Thirteen. And you, what are you doing here in the middle of the night ?"

"Oh, that's a long story, I'd rather not talk about it."

"Does it have something to do with all that broken glass on the road ? _Merde_," he suddenly shouted, "you're bleeding, man !"

"What, my hand ? Oh, yes, I... I got bitten by a wild boar."

"I hope it wasn't rabid."

The British guy thought about it a moment. "Well, I think it was."

"Then I'll drop you at the first hospital we see, pal. By the way, name's Renaud Roddecker."

"Wonk... Wincott. Walter Wincott. _Très heureux_."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Don't go away yet ! Lol, I know the story is virtually finished now, but when I have the time, I intend to add an epilogue to properly conclude it. In the course of the week, but not now. Right now, I'm exhausted ! Just a precision, the character Renaud Roddecker is not me. I'm much younger than he is, I'm not married, and I don't live in the USA. I don't even have his car ! Lol, but the city he's visiting, Alençon, does actually exist, and I know it well, for it is my hometown !

I will give a more proper conclusion in the epilogue, but I really hope you enjoyed this story that started as a rather non-serious pastime, and that actually took a year and a half to write. I still can't believe it. Thank you.


	30. Epilogue: It Never Ends

_Seven Months Later..._

Hysteria was taking over the sports hall, in Atlanta, as an official walked to the middle of the tatamis, at the very center of the hall, where everyone could see, with a microphone. He gave a look around, with a Colgate smile, and proudly declared:

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Gwinett Center Arena of Atlanta is proud to welcome you to this amazing martial arts night ! For your eyes only, tonight, you will admire exhibitions of karate, kung-fu, savate, tae-kwon-do, sambo, and many more !"

The cheers doubled in intensity. Ten thousand peole cheering all at the same time, that was quite a show in itself.

"Well, I see you are all great tonight ! I hope you won't be disappointed with the show ! Before we begin, I would like to give special thanks. This exceptional event would not have been made possible without the support of the International Federation of Martial Arts !"

On the first-class tribune, high above their heads, a middle-aged man in a tuxedo, the deputy of the Federation, stood up and waved his hand, for people to applaud even more. The referee continued:

"The World Karate Association !"

A second man stood up on the tribune, and the cheers tripled in intensity.

"And, of course, our most devoted patron, our friend, a man I don't need to introduce, the famous billionaire, Mr Bruce Starkweather !"

When Mr Starkweather, a tall, elegant raven-haired man in a black Italian suit with a red shirt, stood up in his turn, the fever was at its climax.

Standing on the area between the bleachers and the fighting area, clad in her white kimono that offered a strange contrast with her pale blue skin, Violet Beauregard was one of the very few people who were not cheering. Too tensed for that. Her fight would begin in a few minutes, and that would be the fight of her life. She walked in circles nervously, sometimes throwing anxious glances at her opponent who was warming up at the other side of the fighting ground. Jessifer King. She had only seen pictures of her before, and now that she saw her for real, she told herself that they did really look alike. Jessy King was taller than her (which was normal considering that she was also older), but they both had strongly built shoulders and they both looked as tough, almost tomboyish, except that Jessy's face was a bit more square, less childish, and her blond hair was done in a short ponytail. Oh, yes, of course. Their main difference was of course the fact that Jessy still had a white skin and blond hair, where Violet had kept that light blue shade. But her unusual color was not disturbing her. Not anymore. She had learned to live with it. Still, Jessy was very pretty, and for Violet it was no wonder why James had fallen in love with her. Where was he, anyway ?

She turned to her mother:

"Hey, Mom ! Where's Jim ?"

Mrs Beauregard looked up at the ceiling, riddled with numerous bridges and catwalks that ran between the heavy lights.

"Must be lurking somewhere over there," she said.

"Why did he go up there ?"

"I think he doesn't want to be seen by Jessifer. You know how he is."

Of course she did. They had been living in the same house for seven months, and therefore she began to know him well. She thought that was sad. He could use this occasion to be reunited with her, and quit his dangerous job. He was still a kid, after all, and that was not a life for a kid ! Or maybe she could do it herself. She could talk to Jessifer and tell her the truth, so that they would be reunited. But, no, she couldn't do that, she knew he wouldn't agree, and even if she did it with the best intentions, it would be like she betrayed him, which she didn't want to. They had lived together for so long, he was like her brother, and you don't betray your brother. Though, now that she thought about it, she remembered that the past few weeks, he had been more distant than usual, and that bugged her sometimes, she didn't know what was happening to him. He wouldn't talk. Maybe that had something to do with a book she once found under his bed, a_French For Dummies _book. She didn't know...

The referee interrupted her in her thoughts when he declared:

"And now, for the first event of this wonderful night ! A real match, ladies and gentlemen, for the Junior National Championship, less than eighteen years old, but don't underestimate them ! On my left, fourteen years old, from Cooper Riverside, California, the one whose lightning kicks granted her the nickname 'Velociraptor', the current Junior National Champion, Jessifer King !"

Violet watched her opponent climb on the tatamis and perform a salto to impress the crowd. Wow ! This girl had a look in her eyes... she looked like the female robot in _Terminator 3 _! Violet struggled to stay calm. Of course, Jessy the 'Raptor' was super-strong and all, but Violet was very talented too. And she would show her.

"And on my right, eleven years old, from Atlanta, the very young but very talented contestant, 'Blue Angel' Violet Beauregard !"

That was her turn ! Courageously, she took a deep breath and climbed on the mat. She heard her mother wish her good luck. And James was surely observing, from his hideout. She had waited for this for long. The two girls saluted, and Violet tried to comfort herself by thinking that she had fought much worse foes in the Factory, seven months ago, and this was nothing. Jessifer observed her.

"Nice color," she said as they stood on guard. "Light blue, that's classy."

Oh, okay, so now she was making fun of her ! Violet felt a burst of anger, but contained it. Not now. But once the fight began, she would show no mercy !

The bell rung. Now !

Violet let out a hawk scream and launched her kick like a rocket, but Jessifer side-stepped and dodged with ease. She wasn't fighting back, so Violet continued. High kicks, roundhouse kicks, reversed. She used everything her super-flexibility could do, for she wanted to kick her ass, in the literal sense of the expression. But Jessifer kept dodging with so much ease it was exasperating. And why the Hell wasn't she fighting back ? This ballet went on for a good minute, and Violet was getting really pissed. As it went on, her kicks became larger, stronger but slower, and she stopped anticipating, used as she was to her opponent's odd lack of aggressivity, and rage took over strategy.

Awful mistake. She lost her guard trying to hit. And exactly as the wrong moment, as she was in the middle of a flying kick...

_Bang !_

She felt Jessy's foot on her stomach. It caught her in the air and struck like a piston, so strong that it emptied her lungs and threw her a few meters back, where she fell on her side. She had been ejected as if she were struck by a car sent at full speed ! She spent a few seconds lying on her side, struggling to catch her breath. This kick had been so strong she almost wanted to vomit. When the referee came to check, she managed to stand back up and take a few deep sighs to recover. She could continue. But now, the score was one to zero for Jessy.

The referee resumed the fight. This time, Violet tried to change tactics and fainted a kick before throwing a straight punch to the lungs. Jessy saw it coming, she blocked the punch and folded her leg around the tensed arm. Oh, no ! Violet knew what she was up to and quickly raised her free arm to block the high kick, then, as a reflex, grabbed her opponent's foot and performed a rather awkward but still effective judo toss that brought them both down. That wasn't enough. To get the point, there had to be a strike. She tried a punch, but Jessy reversed the grapple at this moment, and a chaotic wrestle ensued for a while, each girl furiously reversing the other's grapple to get the advantage before losing it the second after. That was going to no end.

Finally, Jessifer managed to lay Violet on her back and was about to give her a punch when the blue girl put her two feet on her opponent's stomach and pushed her away, like a horse. This didn't count as a point, but at least it gave her enough time to stand back up. But she was definitely doomed. She was barely back on her feet when Jessifer's reversed kick hit her in the temple, doing to her the same effect as a guillotine. Her vision blurred, less and less aware of anything, Violet collapsed.

She didn't really know how she managed to stand back up, but she did. Jessifer was winning, but the match wasn't over yet. _Come on, _she told herself, _you beat a one-ton ogre a few months ago, she should be no match for you !_

Confident words she was telling herself, but that kind of failed to make her confident. She was losing zero to two, and all her body and mind were going numb from the hit she had received. She wasn't into the match. But how could she guess Jessifer would be that tough ? No kidding, her kicks felt like her legs were made of concrete !

She stood on guard. Her sight was so blurred her opponent was just a vague form into a kimono. The referee's voice seemed to be coming from very far away when he asked her if she wanted to continue, and it took her an effort to nod. God, how could she hope to win if she could barely move ? She would need a miracle...

Gathering her strength, Violet moved on and tried to grab her opponent. Jessifer merely pushed her away without effort, and Violet tripped back to the limit of the tatamis, where she managed to stand on balance by beating the air like an insane bird. That was tight ! If she fell from the tatamis, she would be disqualified. Standing firmly on her feet, she prepared to go back to the fight, when the tragedy occurred. She never saw it coming. Jessifer had swiftly rolled over to the blue girl, and now she jumped in a front kick !

It hurt. Really, it did. When the ball of Jessifer's foot kissed Violet's chin, it first felt like she had been struck by a sledgehammer. Then, it was like a firecracker banged into her brain, and the only thing that prevented her from drowning into unconsciousness was the sharp pain that radiated in her mouth, along with the salty taste of blood, when she bit her own tongue. Her feet were leaving the floor. She was falling back. It felt almost like flying, especially as her mind was somewhat flying away from her numb body. She finally passed out when she landed in the second row of bleachers.

----------

Violet stuck out her tongue in front of the mirror, in the bathroom. It was not as bad as she had feared. She thought she had bit out a part of her tongue, but there was only a small wound, that still kept leaking blood. Red blood, she thought with a certain pleasure. She liked to think that finally, the 'blue curse' had only touched the superficial layers of skin and she was still normal inside. However, her chin hurt like Hell ! At least, if she had a bruise, nobody would notice. Still, that was one kick from Hell. She was told she had remained unconscious for nearly a minute. That was the first time she was knocked out. That was the first time she lost a match. And you know what ? She didn't care so much, actually.

The girl washed herself and went back to the locker room. Jessifer had just finished her shower and was changing. There were only the two of them. Outside, in the arena, everyone was still enjoying the show. A heavy, awkward silence settled between the two girls, which Jessy decided to break:

"Hey... how'ya doing ?"

"Not too bad," Violet mumbled as she sat down beside her.

"I hope I didn't hurt you. I'm sorry, when I'm into a match, I can't control myself, and sometimes I kick way too hard. I was really scared when I saw you fall back in the bleachers, I thought you had broken bones !"

"No, that's okay... I'm super-flexible, my bones can't be broken. I just lost this time, that's all... still, you didn't need to insult me."

"What ?"

"That comment about my blue skin. I know I look weird, and it's quite hard to live with it."

"Oh, I'm sorry you took it as an insult, cause I wasn't teasing you. I really meant what I said."

"So you don't find it... weird ?"

"It's unusual, sure, but it's pretty cool. I think it suits you great."

Violet sniggered. "When I came back home with this blue skin, it took everyone at least two months to get used to it. It's incredible you're not shocked at all."

"I've seen much weirder than that before..."

She had said that with an indifferent tone tainted with a slight... regret ? Violet could easily guess who she was talking about, and when Jessy stood up to put on her t-shirt, she had a glimpse on her necklace, a golden locket that was the exact copy of the one Jim was always wearing. She was talking about him, the weird guy, the snake-man, the creep... and Violet felt in the tone of her voice that Jessy missed him greatly.

"Jessy ?" she called.

"Yeah ?"

_"Jessy, your boyfriend - you remember, James - is here, he's the one who helped us out when we were inside the Factory, seven months ago, and he's been living in my house since then. I thought you would want to meet him again."_

But that's not what she said. Instead, she hesitated for a moment, to finally say: "I was thinking, if you're still in town tomorrow, we might go and have a drink or something ?"

"Sounds nice, but I go home tomorrow morning. Wait..."

The blond girl took a piece of paper and a pen from her jacket and wrote her phone number before giving it to Violet.

"Here, if you happen to pass by California, someday, just give me a call."

"No problem."

----------

"Well, yeah, I lost... pretty impressive match, though. Oh, whatever... it would've made me mad to lose, a few months ago, but now I don't give it a damn. There's more in life than karate. What about you ? Oh, really ? No kidding... why, sure, I'd love to try it when it's finished ! I was also thinking it would make a good plot... yeah... okay, I'll tell them. Bye, Mike."

Violet hung up.

"Mike says hi," she said loudly, to make sure her mom and James could hear her from the kitchen. The 'little champion' - mom liked to call her this way, even if she actually lost - was resting on the couch, in the living room. She was still exhausted from the match, an hour earlier, and starving, and the delicate smell of Spaghetti alla Bolognese that was came from the kitchen was making her salivate.

"How is he ?" James asked as he came to sit beside her. Since he lived with them, he had taken back his human appearance, meaning he would wear his contacts and fake eyebrows, and he didn't slick his hair back anymore. Very little details, actually, but these were enough to make him look drastically different from the Snake who was in the Factory with her. Sometimes, Violet would even wonder if they were actually the same boys.

"He's fine. You'll never believe it: he found a 3D generator and a bunch of other programs for his computer, and now he's working on a video game based on the Chocolate Factory !"

"No shit..."

"Really, I swear ! He said it's gonna be like a mix of _Resident Evil _and _Metal Gear_. He already has to go to Paris in a few days to meet Quantic Dream developers. Must be fun."

"I don't know, it just doesn't sound right to go back to what happened in there..."

"Well, we won, after all. If we go back to what happened through a game, we can see it in a more positive way, for, you know, we just pretend."

"I guess so..."

His reaction didn't surprise the girl at all. On the contrary, it was typical of him. He had been living with them for seven months, and she never ever remembered having seen him once being utterly optimistic. Even simply making him smile was an exploit in itself.

He had officially been introduced as Violet's European cousin, James Bernstein, when they came back from England. His mission was to support Violet as she struggled to retrieve a normal life, and also to teach her to master her super-flexibility, since he knew quite a lot about this. The first few weeks had been very difficult. Not to introduce James, on the contrary, everyone had bought the story without asking questions. No, the most difficult had been to turn things back to normal. First, of course, the aftermaths of the Factory incident: for three weeks she was afraid of sleeping, for her nights were constantly haunted by gruesome dreams of whining zombie children and giant carnivore plants and raping trees. James, who already didn't sleep much, had turned insomniac and would spend his nights chain smoking in the living room. Gladly, this traumatism progressively faded, but there were other problems to mind. There the journalists who kept harassing them, trying to interview Violet about her misadventures in the Factory to make it a first-page story in their tabloids. They would show up anytime, impredictible, they would stalk her when she went to school, and sometimes there were even photographers trying to sneak inside the house by night. In the end, Mrs Beauregard had filed a lawsuit against them, and won in a Pyrrhic victory.

Then, there was the school. Most of the adults knew what had actually happened to her, and they tried to be understanding towards her, but they did just too much and instead of being understanding, they had become overprotective and would favor her at any given occasion, which of course didn't appeal to the sympathy of her classmates. She was already not very popular before, because of her brutal tendencies, here they had found a weakness and they had used it shamelessly, teaming up against her and calling her Smurf. At that time, she would frequently come home from school crying, to lock herself up in her room and refuse to eat. James had managed to cheer her up by working out with her and teaching her some of his 'snake-fu' moves, and when she came in full control of her flexible body, she went back into karate. Eventually, it took a while but Violet managed to show her classmates how much she had changed and get along with most of them. She became a great friend, and her tomboyish attitude made her popular among both girls and boys. Her blue skin was little by little accepted and was now considered as a cute quirk. However, in the beginning there were some kids, some brutes, who went too far and, aside from taunting, would beat her and throw her stones. This was the main reason why she had almost fallen into depression, and though they wanted to avoid this, she and James had found only one solution for these violent kids: they had gathered them all in an abandoned garage and beat them all up _Double Dragon_-style, in a festival of dust biting and nosebleeding. Not very subtle, for sure, but at least, nobody would dare assault her anymore. That is how she was here now, blue-skinned but happy, back in her normal, secure and comfortable life.

She and James were like siblings. They would spend almost all of their time together, except when she was at school or hanging out with her friends. She had no clue of what he did with his time when she wasn't with him, but according to her mom, he liked to "go out for a walk". She didn't know if there was a link, but since he's been living here, there were frequent troubles with gangs from East Atlanta, and three drug dealers and one pimp were found dead by poisoning. Other than that, they were perfectly going along, never growing tired of each others as they would challenge each others in furious video game battles, work out, hang out, or simply have sleepless nights in the room they shared - Violet had strongly insisted for them to share the bedroom - chatting to no end and playing silly games. But there was no romance in their relationship. They were not interested. James had only had a crush on her because she reminded him of Jessifer, and Violet wasn't officially dating Mike, but their long and somewhat awkward conversations on the phone or the internet left little doubt that both of them wanted, but none of them dared to do the first step.

While Mike was developping his video game and frequently getting into trouble with the authorities because of his passion for computers - he was supposedly being currently wanted by the French secret services for hacking into their database - the other kids had recovered well from their misadventures. Augustus was trying to break into professional wrestling. Charlie and his family had taken over the Factory and done the titanesque exploit to clean it up completely, getting rid of all the monsters, all the nasty little experiments, all the dangerous and scary stuff, everything. If you go to England someday, make sure you stop by to visit the Charlie Bucket Chocolate Factory, I've heard it's become a real candy paradise, now. This wouldn't have been made possible without the help of the rescued children from Basement 13, whom most of them, having nowhere to go, had been adopted by the Buckets and were working at the Factory while receiving an education. Oksana was one of them. She worked as a candy taster, the dreamed job of all the children in the world ! Of course, Mr Salt's financial support had been a considerable help, too. As for Veruca, the spoiled brat had recovered too, though it had taken her more time, but she wasn't a spoiled brat anymore. Far from that. More, she had enrolled in child help associations to share her experience, and was interested in psychology. She and Charlie were dating, and the Buckets often freaked out when she talked about marriage.

Everything was going alright for the gang. And meanwhile, they were eating spaghettis at the Beauregards'. The dinner began silently. Mrs Beauregard attempted several times to start a conversation, but to no avail. There was an uneasy atmosphere between the two kids, and she didn't quite like that. Finally, Violet spoke:

"James ? You know, I talked to Jessifer, tonight."

He didn't answer. She continued: "You could have talked to her too. Why didn't you do it ? Why did you go to hide ?"

"I told you this story a million times, Vi. You know the problem."

"It's been two years, Jim. You were twelve at this time, now you're fourteen. You've grown up. I'm sure she is ready to forgive you, if she hasn't already."

"Vi, it's not as if I cheated on her or what. I told her lies, and I used these lies to kill people. How can she forgive me ? How the Hell could anyone forgive me ? No, I've gone way too far. I can't go back home and pretend that nothing happened. That's my curse, I have to live with it."

"Stop saying that, you know that's wrong. You've been living here like a normal person for months, after all !"

"I have. And I will always be thankful to you for giving me this chance." He grew somber. "But that cannot last forever. The Snake is calling again..."

Violet was afraid. She knew what he was about to say, she guessed it right away. Why he had been oddly distant for the past weeks, what this book under his bed meant... that was so obvious. He took a deep breath and said the words she dreaded:

"A few weeks ago, I was offered a contract. Taking down some terrorists in Paris, France. I didn't want to take it right now, I wanted to wait... Vi, I wanted to wait until you were ready. Tonight, at the match, you were amazing. You're back to your good old days, Vi. You are self-confident and strong. My mission is complete. You don't need me anymore."

The girl's eyes were itching, and then tears rolled down her cheeks. "No..."

"I'm going there as soon as possible."

He looked at Mrs Beauregard. She was silent and her eyes were going uneasily from her daughter to Jim.

"It means, tomorrow," he finished.

She said nothing, she just nodded in silence. She knew this day would come, after all. Violet kept weeping and absent-mindedly playing with her pastas. They didn't look so appetizing anymore.

----------

The next morning looked terribly bleak. Violet had cried half of the night on Jim's shoulder and finally fallen asleep against him. This morning, she wasn't really sad anymore, but everything looked gray and dull. The sunny weather looked gray to her. The breakfast, pancakes with maple syrup, was tasteless, and she felt like she wasn't waking up, she had no energy anymore. Part of it came of course from the fatigue due to the match, but not only. She was numb and unmotivated. It was about eleven, now. In a near-lethargic state, she had spent the whole morning watching James pack his stuff. His bike, a bright red Harley-Davidson which he had actually stolen two years ago, had been taken out of the garage, and now Jim was outside, tying his bags on the back of the vehicle.

When he was done, he came back inside. He was dressed in casual clothing, apart from his cow-boy boots and a brown leather jacket, lined with fur, a jacket for long-distance travelers, with an angel painted on the back. This was a gift from Mrs Beauregard, for his birthday.

"Well," he said softly, "looks like I'm ready to go."

"When is your flight ?" Mrs Beauregard asked absent-mindedly.

"Half past noon. Just the time to get to the airport and eat something."

"You don't want us to take you to the airport ?"

"I... I don't think it's a good idea."

"I understand."

The boy came to Violet and gingerly stroked her hair.

"Vi... before I go, I want you to know this: the few months I've spent with you have been wonderful. It felt good to have a family again, and to become a normal boy again, even if it wasn't meant to last. But we all knew it would end someday. I'll never thank you enough for being such a great friend to me. Good bye, sister."

The girl turned her head to look at him in the eyes. "You promise me something before you go ?"

"Sure."

"Call her. Or write her a letter. Anything. But let her know you're still alive, and you're still thinking of her."

He didn't feel like disappointing her. Not now.

"I will," he said.

In return, she gave him a bear hug.

"Good bye, Jim. If you pass by someday, don't hesitate and come."

After a few more minutes wishing good bye to Mrs Beauregard, James went out of the house, to the sidewalk, and he climbed on his bike. Turned on the engine. Put on his aviator sunglasses. He hated farewells. They scared him, because everytime one occurred, he felt it affected him less and less, and he didn't know if it was simply his human side getting used to it, or his snake side trying to shut down his emotions. If he gave it too much thought, he would go mad. He had to go now, or he never would. Without looking behind, he rode his bike to the road, and on the way to the airport. He disappeared from the Beauregards' sight, as they were watching him go through the window. Mrs Beauregard held her daughter close and gave her a soft kiss on the head.

"Guess we're gonna feel strangely lonely for a few days," she said.

"Yeah," Violet sighed, without shedding a tear. "But we'll get used to it. He did, after all."

----------

Noon. His flight would take off soon, James thought as, sitting in the crowded and noisy MacDonald's of the airport, he was finishing his hamburger. He had had to wait until it got cold before he could eat it. He couldn't stand hot food. He chewed slowly, and swallowed without enthusiasm. Took the last sip of his Sprite. Then he stood up, and mechanically gathered the junk on his tray and went to discard it.

He was about to leave when someone - one of the numerous people queueing in front of the counter - bumped into him from behind.

"Sorry," the girl said.

He turned round, and immediately told himself he shouldn't have. For he knew this voice. And now he had her right in front of him. He had left her in a lousy night-club in California, and here, two years later, he met her again, standing in the queue of a MacDonald's counter in Atlanta airport. She hadn't lost anything of the subtle, tomboyish beauty that had seduced him so much. She was only a few inches taller, her hair was longer and in a ponytail, and she had a more womanly silhouette. And she was looking at him with her wide clear blue eyes. Jessifer King. She was accompanied with a cute brunette of shorter size. He knew this girl too, Angel Roddecker, she was Jessy's best friend since kindergarten. They both looked at him, making him uneasy. The eye contact had maybe lasted a second or two, but it seemed like an hour. He bowed as if to apologize for the bump, and walked out of the restaurant without waiting. They had not recognized him, he was sure of this. Last time they saw him, he had short hair, and he had blue eyes, and his face was a little wider, more childish. Now, he was a little taller, he had neck-long straight hair, green contacts, and a narrow face. No, they couldn't have recognized him.

"Wait !" Jessifer shouted as she rushed out of the restaurant and into the overcrowded main hall of the airport. She gave desperate looks around, but the mysterious biker boy she had bumped into was nowhere in sight. Where had he gone ?

"J... Jim ?" she called shyly. "Jim ? Where are you ?" her phrase ended in a whisper. Maybe she had just dreamt this scene. Angel came out and rejoined her.

"Jessy ? What's going on, Jess ?"

"Angie... you saw him too, didn't you ?"

"Saw who ? You're sure you're okay ?"

"Yes... I guess so. I'm coming in a minute."

The young girl watched Angel go back into the restaurant before looking back at the hall. He had plainly disappeared.

"James," she whispered. "I wish you well in Hell..."

She turned back and walked into the restaurant.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I... wow ! I've been dreaming of this moment for a year and a half, and I never thought it would come. Historical moment here, and as Belle07 said, we can open the champaign, now: the story is finished. I must be honest, I never thought it would end up this way. I began this story one boring Sunday afternoon, when the bizarre idea of what would happen if my character, Snake, made an appearance into the Chocolate Factory, putting an horror twist to the tale we all know and love. Tonight, one year and a half later, I have just finished the longest, freakiest and most intense story I have ever written. When I read some older chapters again, I sometimes think it was too intense, mostly in terms of descriptions and endless monologues about the characters' states of mind. And sometimes, I just wonder where the Hell I got such ideas as weird as the raping tree, the bad trips, or the long and gloomy (really, it gives me goosebumps when I read it again) torture scene in the surgery. I think the story took control of me and I couldn't stop the flow of ideas. I guess the same things happen to everyone who tries to write.

But in the end, I am proud of it. I would like to give special thanks to my reviewers, Belle07, Miz-Nu-Booty, Karra Venus Leo, and all the others, for appreciating the story and sharing this experience with me. Booty, well I'm not interested in publishing for now, besides, you can't publish a fanfiction. Lol. Just kidding, if you know someone who can draw (I couldn't draw for my life), maybe I would do comic-books. I won't stop writing, though, writing is a pleasure and the only way I found to control my imagination that would make me crazy if I let it unleashed. I have my other fanfiction, and my original stories I'm beginning to post on the other site. Maybe I'll see you round.

To finish, I want to dedicate this story to a very special person, whose friendship has always been a source of inspiration throughout this difficult time. I think I'm getting a little too emotional, here, so I'll just say this:

Thank you.


End file.
